


i began to sing (long before i could talk)

by shuantics



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: (burlesque meets la la land ish), (these tags are like whiplash), 2000s nostalgia, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Burlesque, Eventual Romance, First Love, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:46:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24972565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuantics/pseuds/shuantics
Summary: Somewhere in between falling asleep during his lectures and singing Smash Mouth for drunk Millenials on Saturday nights, Jihoon fell in love. Finding himself in the smoke-filled room of a burlesque lounge somewhere down Hollywood Blvd, Jihoon finds himself falling all over again.
Relationships: Hong Jisoo | Joshua & Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 46





	i began to sing (long before i could talk)

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from thank you for the music by abba
> 
> a big thank you to [OpalStarpoint](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalStarpoint/pseuds/OpalStarpoint) and [yutenwoo](https://yutenwoo.tumblr.com/) who helped me more than they know ! by literally just encouraging me to not give up and for yelling at me when i blue balled them for 20 thousand words. i love u both

The opening to Mr Brightside was always met with screams and Jihoon always missed his cue.

It's not like it was hard for Jihoon to focus on music - on the contrary, it was if music was a replacement for blood in his veins - but Jihoon knew this was Joshua's favourite song, as overplayed and glorified that is is, and can't help but watch the senior as he threw himself into every chord and strum and sometimes almost slipped from their very small podium. On that particular Saturday, the band was playing in a gay bar tucked in an alley deep in the town's centre. Jihoon had never been here before (since he never really went on night outs this far from the university anyway) but something about the dark walls and dim lights paired with his drumset being tucked into the stage's back corner, and how the stage itself was so far back into the club that he could barely see the first few rows of people made Jihoon feel invisible. And that's quite how he liked it.

Joshua, though? Joshua stole the spotlight. Well, for Jihoon he did, anyway. Seokmin and Seungkwan were the leads, obviously, with Seungkwan being able to control his voice from behind his piano podium and Seokmin just being so great that he can jump around and deliver perfect vocals without breaking a sweat, but Joshua was on another level. Not a show went by where Jihoon didn't miss a beat or two when his attention drifted to his bandmate.

Jihoon hadn't always been this into Joshua. At least, he didn't think he had been. Honestly, Jihoon was hesitant to even call it anymore than just a silly little crush because the l-word was such a monumental thing that Jihoon was sure he'd ever felt anything enough to consider love unless towards his grandma. But despite that, Jihoon didn't know when he started to have such incredible feelings of adoration that may or may not be love towards Joshua. He just suddenly had them. Or realised them. Either way, Jihoon really, _really_ liked watching Joshua perform his music. He could do it for the rest of his life if the chance was given to him.

But, he couldn't. He couldn't because the song had finished and Jihoon has to close the show. Everyone was staring at him. Suddenly the club was brighter and _everyone_ was staring at him.

"Uh, if you liked what you heard tonight, we are Seventeen, you can follow us on Instagram at we-are-underscore-seventeen and, uh, enjoy your night!"

If Jihoon's heart wasn't beating from furiously playing the drums for the last forty minutes, it was then, because he hadn't had ample amount of time to run through what he was going to say and he was sure he sounded just the right mix of awkward and unprepared to come across as unprofessional. If playing 2000s nostalgia songs to drunk millennials on Saturday nights was at all professional, to begin with. 

Whatever. It was over and Jeonghan's bass was playing the introduction chords to the most well-known song of all time. Ending the set with All Star was a stroke of genius (even if the song fell outside the group's allocated throwback years) and every drunk twenty-something who had just started to scream had him to thank for it. He distracted the anxious beating of his heart with not messing up their closing song since he seemed to be on the track of messing everything else up that evening.

In the slightly warmer lights, as the five of them left the stage, of the tiny, sorry excuse for a backstage and a green room, Jihoon noticed Joshua was sweating. A lot. Jihoon wasn't that shocked. They weren't the type of band that went with costumes (other than when they play 70's theme nights, during which Seungkwan does an excellent Bowie get up) but they dedicated themselves enough to at least dress like it was 2003. 2003 grunge season, to be exact, and Joshua, having forgotten his middle school wardrobe adopted to just put a short-sleeved shirt over his long-sleeved one. This clearly was a mistake (or was it? Depending on your outlook) because Joshua was soaked head to toe, typically prim hair tousled into a mess as he stripped off both and grabbed the first bottle of water handed to him. Jihoon tried not to stare, he really, _really_ did. 

In all honesty, Joshua wasn't his type. Jihoon didn't know what his type was in practicality (because all those theoretical men he'd spent his nights thinking about didn't cut it either) but on the outside, Joshua wasn't it. Not if he was basing it on anything other than looks, for sure, because, let's be real: physically Joshua Hong was everyone's type unless you're one of those shallow people who didn't want a partner more attractive then you. In that case, you suck, and you're missing out. Years of Jihoon's own self-confidence issues had led him to rather bittersweetly never care much at all for looks, but he also felt it'd be a disservice to Joshua and his Hong genetics to not mention how utterly gorgeous the senior was. 

Joshua had the look of an angel, but made you feel nothing but devilish as you took his features in: soft, supple skin that was a tan colour of someone on good terms with the sun; doe-like eyes that Jihoon was sure had its own constellations within them, and the ability with a good eyeliner technique (something else Joshua was talented in) to look cat-like and alluring and like you'd break the law for him. His lips were permanently pink and Jihoon guessed generously lavished with lip balm regularly enough that they looked bouncy and, most infuriatingly of all, inviting; they curled up at the corners when he smiled and the smile lines sank deep into his cheeks, just like his eyes did when he grinned wide enough. Jihoon was ashamed to admit he'd sketched the image of Joshua and his tall, toned physic into the scrapbook pages of his brain, and now he'd had the delight of adding a faint albeit dangerously attractive set of abs into the collection. Jihoon wanted to bash his head against the wall because he's absolutely sure he'd been caught staring.

Boo Seungkwan didn't help either - he'd picked up the habit of initiating a group hug after every performance like they were some sort of teen heartthrob boyband (Backstreet Boys were, in fact, on their setlist, but Jihoon digressed), and so Jihoon was pulled in, head perfectly aligned with Joshua's sweat-slicked neck and Jihoon felt his heart stop. Jihoon wanted to smack himself. He was acting like a twelve-year-old with his first crush. Joshua was his bandmate and his friend they'd hugged before. Hell, Jihoon had slept in the same bed as Joshua before (which, by the way, is a whole other story). His heart should not be being this dramatic from a hug, despite it being a very hot, sweaty hug. Jihoon tried to push his brain to continue working when the group pulled away and Joshua's hand nonchalantly remained on his shoulder. 

After a short round of congratulations, as if completing this show was somehow more worthy of a celebration than the rest, the five of them decided drinks were in order and filed out of the green room. Into the hectic crowd of people filing in and out from the dancefloor, sometimes stopping to accept a compliment from someone who, less than twenty minutes ago, was screaming along to the lyrics of Kelly Clarkson's Since U Been Gone (because using textspeak in titles was - and still is - apparently cool), Jihoon weaved his way through, clinging to the back of Seokmin's non-descript graphic tee for guidance as much as for moral support. Jihoon had never really been a fan of crowds, being in front of them more so than being in them. Sometimes, there was something reassuring and weirdly safe about getting lost in a sea of people and, being five-foot-something, it wasn't that hard for Jihoon to get lost. But here, everyone was surely drunk, considering it was something past eleven and happy hour - evening - started at six.

The band was the brainchild of Jihoon one night after an unexciting night at a bar in the campus area with his roommates. (See, he does enjoy nights out, he's not a total recluse!)

"Why don't clubs play good music anymore?" Soonyoung had asked when the four of them left their third bar of the evening.

"Good music is subjective," Wonwoo added, "but yeah. I'm sick of clubland hits."

"I think a club playing throwback songs would be a great idea," Jihoon said and straightened as he tripped over a curb. "Like 2000s songs. Like All Star. That would make an incredible club vibe."

"We should open our own club," Jun adds. "Jihoon can sing, Soonyoung can strip - if you comfortable with that - Wonwoo's mixology seminar can finally come in handy and I can handle the security and the money."

"You are the last person I'd have to handle money," Wonwoo laughed but the cogs in Jihoon's head were already turning. Realistically, Jihoon could be a one-man band: he had the skills in guitar, drums and piano and even the flute if needed. But where would be the fun in that? He's sure his roommates could carry enough of a tune to make it work, but when he brought the topic up over Student Thursdays at the Deli, they all vehemently declined.

"I'm running on three hours of sleep as it is," Jun said.

"I'm trying to take as many extra credits as I can to have some space next year for a part-time internship," Wonwoo responded.

"I can't sing," Soonyoung answered.

"You can!" Jihoon insisted. "I've heard you, you're good! I can do the music and you can sing to a cover track."

Soonyoung waved him off. "Sorry, Ji. We're freshmen we should kind of be focusing on other things at the minute."

And realistically, Jihoon knew he was right, but once his heart was set on it, he asked his personal tutor to rent out a music room for a day to hold auditions.

And here Jihoon was now. When he found the space to breathe, he found the other three of his bandmates already flagging down a bartender, ordering them all bar Jeonghan the special cocktail and collapsing into the nearest available and least sticky seating. They had thirty-something minutes before they had to clear out their instruments for the next music feature of the night and they had decided to fill that time with arguing about adding more 80s synth into their setlist since Seungkwan had just invested in a new keytar (new meaning from the thrift store for less than eighty dollars) and wants desperately to include ABBA. Jeonghan replied that they're a 2000s pop-punk-grunge-rock nostalgia band for a reason and that Seungkwan can do his Agnetha Fältskog drag act on his own time and Seokmin had to take a breath in between his wheezing laughter to stop them from throwing punches. Jihoon looked around at the four people who within the space of a year have become some of his closest friends and amongst the surprising number he'd gained over his college career, and wondered how he could hang out with people who were so cool.

Consider it like this: Seungkwan, the youngest, was the only freshmen, but even then, being at the metaphorical bottom of the campus food chain didn't stop Seungkwan from making himself known right from freshers week. He did drag, somehow, seeing as its one of the most time-consuming hobbies Jihoon had ever seen as a recreation somewhere between being in a tribute band and being a pre-law student. (Come to think of it, Jihoon is sure he's never actually seen Seungkwan sleep.) Word got around and soon everyone knew of the freshman from a small town who looked incredible in six-inch Loubitton shoes (which weren't actually Loubittons, Seungkwan had revealed, he just spray-painted them to complete the Marylin Monroe look). So when Seungkwan joined the then-unnamed band, people were thinking one of two things: one) how does he have the time and two) drag just got impossibly cooler.

Seokmin was a sophomore and had a reputation of being the kindest person anyone had ever met. And he was. Jihoon was so overwhelmed with how sweet Seokmin was to him at a party once that he cried (in his defence he was also very very drunk). Seokmin's the kind of person who would give a duck his coat if the duck looked cold and it radiated from every smile he ever gave. And to make it worse, Seokmin was ungodly talented and had made that known on karaoke night at the student bar in which his rendition of Somebody to Love was the most viewed video on the student union feed by the next morning. Many (i.e, everyone) thought a voice like that was wasted on an education degree, but alas, Seokmin loved kids and wanted a backup plan if his inevitable break into the music industry fell through - add good with kids and smart to the ever-expanding list of reasons why everyone had a crush on him.

Joshua and Jeonghan were seniors and who were, arguably, the coolest people to know when you're in college. Jihoon always saw age as a defining fact of status in academic life and he can't lie, when he was a senior in high school, he enjoyed the instant respect he commanded when he walked through the corridors. In college, there's nothing to distinguish freshmen from upperclassmen apart from the natural aura of superiority seniors exhibit, but also, everyone knew Joshua and Jeonghan were seniors because they're cool. Jeonghan was a physics major and ran a tutor group that met on Thursdays at four in the east library wing. Jihoon knew this because Soonyoung was in love with him and decided his mandatory academic credit while doing Choreography should be physics because it's, quote, versatile. Needless to say, Soonyoung wasn't the only one on the same page and Jeonghan had to start limiting his study group numbers.

Joshua was an economics major and, if Jihoon hadn't made it clear already, Joshua was attractive. So attractive that the student paper managed to find him for every photo opportunity they could and the I.T people had him put on the main website banner where they prove how diverse and pretty their school is. But other than that, Joshua was known for being social, showing up to fraternity and sorority and normal house parties and still getting A's straight enough to distract from how not straight he was. He was the president of the Queer-Straight Association and had a reputation to throw some very gay parties. Jihoon was a first-hand witness to this, but that was before Jihoon had migrated from being a firm observer of cool people to being an actual cool person.

And then there was Jihoon. Jihoon was a music technology and business major, which means he's excluded from the sciences students sneering, "Oh, well you'll be pressed looking for work then?" because he had a feasible career path in just about any tech field, so suck on that once you've finished getting high off chemicals. Jihoon decided pretty early in his life that he was not cool. Maybe it had to do with the innate need to be in his own space and comfort zone and the inability he had to comfortably talk to people without rehearsing the entire interaction beforehand, but mostly, Jihoon chalks it up to being good old fashion introvert. Jihoon doesn't like people, because when he's around people he has a tendency to mess things up and embarrass himself, which opens up an entire treasure chest of internalised self-hatred fueled by a deep sense of anthropophobia. Simply put: socialising bad, self-isolation good.

So when Jihoon found himself thrust into the centre of social circles during his very first week of school, well - you can just about imagine how well that went down.

Here's the thing, Jihoon was blessed (cursed? However you viewed it) with having awfully social roommates in freshman year. Namely, he had Jun. Jun was a nursing student who, with no shortage of people taking his course, had a plethora of people to dazzle with his good looks and charm. And since he, the ever-so-generous socialite, was rooming with Jihoon, Soonyoung and Wonwoo (someone else who thankfully understood the pleasures of a night-in just about every week), Jun decided it was his duty to introduce his news pals to just about everyone at several mixers throughout the span of the year. And so everyone, they met.

Soonyoung welded with people like he was a warm stick of glue: he was funny and cute and did this alarmingly good impression of a tiger and everyone thought he was the sweetest thing since sugar meringues made it to the buffet table. Wonwoo, on the other hand, took some warming to: he liked books and deep conversations and Jihoon in their later years enjoyed staying up late talking with him, but even so, Wonwoo found some people to party with, namely in the other Literature students who got into a very heated debate about a fuck, marry, kill list of classical love interests. ("Just so we're clear, I'd like to fuck 1995 miniseries Mr Darcy, not 2005 Kiera Knightly's Mr Darcy.")

Jihoon took even more pushing than the roommate's resident bibliophile. So much so, in fact, that Jun made a point to go around and introduce him to just about everyone he could manage to. It was through Jun's nursing school friend, Kun - yes, he knows, their names are so similar it's hilarious (Jihoon stopped laughing the third time it was pointed out) - that Jihoon met John, John Suh, Kun's boyfriend who was a Sophmore and star of the baseball team. John was attractive and if Jihoon didn't have eyes, he'd be able to tell by the several people adamant on getting John's attention before the night was up. And it was through John that Jihoon met who this all ultimately leads to Joshua. And Jihoon never believed in love at first sight but hot _fucking_ damn was Joshua something else to lay his eyes on.

Joshua had gotten better at eyeliner since he first met him, but still had the habit of forgetting and rubbing his eye at some point whenever he wore it. It didn't look bad though, it just made him look more dishevelled and, dare Jihoon say, sexy. In the bar, his makeup ran because of his sweat, and Jihoon found his hand reaching up to wipe a rolling bead of sweat, stained black with pigment.

It's not as if Jihoon and Joshua were uncomfortable around each other, despite how many times Jihoon would stiffen whenever Joshua was close enough for him to be able to smell his cologne. (Much like now when the musk of his body meshed with what Jihoon could only assume was an expensive fragrance. It drove Jihoon crazy.) Quite the opposite, in fact, Jihoon had known Joshua for over two years now and thankfully for them, Jihoon was drunk when they met, so by the time he'd woken up in Joshua's bed, there was no ice left to break.

(They didn't have sex, just to be clear, but more on that one later.)

"All I'm saying is that adding a power ballad to the set would well up just enough emotion in people to make Mr Brightside more cathartic." Seungkwan punctuated his argument by setting his shot glass down with enough force to shake the table. 

"Power ballads defined the eighties, Boo, not the 2000s," Joshua laughed and dropped his arm back around Jihoon's shoulder. He'd returned his long-sleeved shirt to his body and his necklace sat in the centre of his chest, cold steel against Jihoon's bicep as the both of them drank generously from their bottles.

"Say that to Big Girls Don't Cry."

"Oh, come on, Seungkwan," Jihoon chided, "I get more emotion from Nicki Minaj than that song."

"Some people, as it seems, just do not have the taste."Seungkwan shrugged and lifted Seokmin's drink from his fingers.

Jihoon denied their offer for a bar crawl to finish their successful night (Jeonghan noticed they'd upped their Instagram follower count by seven!). With his jacket covering the skin sparsely covered with his drop arm tank, he stuffed his hands in to keep them warm and finished loading up their van for Jeonghan to take home later.

"Do you want me to take you back?" Joshua offered and Jihoon found he was already opening-up Uber on his phone.

Jihoon waved his hand in dismissal. "I'll walk back."

"It's late."

"It's a twenty-minutes walk."

"A lot can happen in twenty minutes," Seokmin added. "Such as an efficient zoo-trip."

"Or an apartment clean," Jeonghan added, being sure to look at Joshua as he did so.

"Please let me order you a ride?" Joshua persisted and Jihoon sighed in defeat. This was less than ideal: he'd planned the perfect amount of songs to fit a twenty-minute walk (roughly six) and he'd planned on visiting his daydream fantasy world as he did so, but now that'd be reduced to roughly four minutes, which meant four minutes to fill with a conversation with an uber driver if he was _really_ unlucky. And then he'd get home to his three-bed-four-man apartment (Wonwoo drew short and slept in the main room - but realistically as Juniors, they didn't get much sleep anyway, so he mostly just had a home base in the living room.) and his friends would want to know how the show went and Jihoon would reply as he usually did, with a short and sweet, "It was good!" and he'd relive a couple of the night's notable moments but ultimately his friends would know that all he wanted was to go to be and recuperate from the copious amount of social interaction the last twenty-four hours had forced upon him. 

And that's what happened. He picked at the leftovers from Jun's dinner experiment and lied that he'd eaten with the band before his exhausted mind made way to his exhausted limbs and he pulled himself from lingering behind the couch and watching a snippet of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and finally collapsed on his single bed, shoes kicked off, melting into the cocoon of his duvet. It was like coming home to his wife with a honey kiss, making him feel warm to his very insides.

* * *

It started like this:

Jihoon, because of his connection to Jun, who was connected to Kun who was connected to John, was invited to Joshua's house party. (Well, loft party, Jihoon realised, as he and Jun rode the rickety elevator up to the top floor of a warehouse-esque apartment building, only four storeys tall.)

"Isn't it, like, customary to bring a gift when you go to someone's house party?"

Jun's brow creased as he looked at him. "What? No, this is a college party, Jihoon, not a baby shower.”

Jihoon folded his hands inside his jacket and kicked the dirty floor of the lift. It looked as if Joshua wasn't only a social butterfly, he was well off too, since the place he lived in (he assumed with other people) went for anywhere between six hundred to two thousand a month, and since this was the top loft he guessed even more. And yes, he did snoop in Zillow beforehand. He was just curious! And now Jihoon was going to show up in this two thousand plus apartment empty-handed.

"Just wanted to be a good guest. I'm not even sure I was invited, I barely know him."

"True, but you know Kun, who's dating John, who's, like, best friends with Joshua. All you have to do to be that is say hi and then drink all his alcohol."

"Alcohol! That would have been a good gift to bring."

The elevator shuddered to a stop and the heavy metal door slid up. Jun slid back the rusty gate and the pair stepped into the foyer, ambience seeping through the heavy grey door stamped 4A. As expected (though Jihoon thought he'd quelled it with pre-drinks) the nervous churn started at his stomach, twisting his insides and drying up his throat. He tried not to let Jun see the quiver of his hands ("Just a little cold," he was prepared to answer.) and tried to wear out his shakes by tamping his foot against the concrete floor. Jihoon was excited about this party, really! The more times he said it the more it's bound to come true.

_You're going to have an awful time._

No, I'm not. I haven't been to a party all semester, I'm excited.

_Yeah, but what if no one talks to you. And Jun ditches you because, let's be real, his friends are cooler than you are they aren't going to want to hang out with you tonight._

Jun's not going to ditch me. He promised he wouldn't.

_Okay, but you're just going to burden him the whole night then._

Shit, you're right. Why did I come? 

_You're just imposing, Joshua invited you out of politeness._

No one actually wants me here.

_Just go home and watch Shrek 2 for the sixth time this month._

You're right I—

"Jihoon?"

"What?"

"You ready?"

Jihoon took a breath in. "You know, I'm kind of tired—"

"No, you're not."

Jihoon shut his lips and felt his face go red.

"Really, I just don't think this is—"

Jun interrupted him again, placing one hand on either shoulder and giving him a stern look - the kind of ones his grandmother used to give him when he'd fret before a piano recital - and started: "Jihoon, you're not backing out on me on this one."

"But—" He doesn't get it.

"No but's. You're excited about this. I know, I read your Tumblr blog."

"You _what?"_

Jun tucked Jihoon under his arm, trapping his friend as a sweat broke out down his neck.

"Just think about how much you'll regret this when you get back to the dorm to do, what, watch Shrek 2 again?"

He really has read his Tumblr blog, oh my God.

But he was also right. Jihoon does this a lot - this being working himself up so much that he'll cancel any and all upcoming social gatherings, be it a party or dinner with his roommates and do nothing instead, and at the end of the night come down with a serious case of FOMO and end up hating himself more in that moment than when he let his brain trick him into being anti-social. Every time, his head makes him run through every possible thing that could go wrong all at once and make him so stressed he gets physically exhausted from the worry and the age-old excuse of, "Long day, super tired." is actually valid. And rationally, he knows right now that he's overthinking it all over: this is a party and from the sounds of it, a busy one. If in some degree, Jihoon was a burden tonight, it wouldn't be on the account that he knows no one. _Ideally,_ Jihoon could make some friends outside of his three roommates because, really, he's starting to go insane only having Soonyoung available to text late at night about his film theories. He emphasises ideally because of course, the reality of him approaching others really is just an idea. The kind of idea that you put forward in the group project, and the leader says, "Yeah, that's good!" and then is never brought up again.

Whatever. He wasn't escaping Jun's grip anyway and braced himself to face to fire as the apartment door swung open.

Joshua's apartment was certainly nice, to say the least. Jihoon felt very out of his comfort zone but was put together enough to notice the decor was kind of... fancy. The loft was long, not very wide, but certainly tall enough to make it look less crowded than it was as he and Jun pushed their way through the crowded ground-floor to the kitchen. The area, which sat under the landing, was attached to an open set of stairs in the atrium of the reception room, and on the L-shaped countertop sat a bowl of punch and an assortment of liquor that Jihoon couldn't wait to get down his neck to replace and anxious thoughts with a more than troubling headache tomorrow morning. Jihoon was ware he was at least marginally more entertaining when he's drunk and so he mixed two shots of vodka with the strange bowl of punch (slipping in his patch-test straw, just to be sure) and swallowed it in three gulps.

"Careful there," a voice said, and for a moment, Jihoon brushed it off, thinking it to be Jun, until he looked up from grimacing at the strange beverage and saw what Jihoon's suddenly dizzy head could only describe as God's personal gift to the world standing over the countertop.

"Joshua!" Jun greeted sweetly, giving the host a hug as Jihoon blinked in his general direction, still waiting for his consciousness to catch up from the abrupt invasion of alcohol into his senses. "Thanks for having us," he continued and turned to Jihoon, looking like he'd just seen a ghost. He motioned to him. "You remember Jihoon, right? You two met at the QSA mixer?"

"How could I forget?" Joshua responded, and smiled at Jihoon with pink lips swathed with a layer of gloss.

Jihoon felt as if his lungs had been squeezed to a stop, and parted his lips to try and utter a greeting, ending up only saying, "We didn't bring a gift." He's fucked if he's gonna end up feeling this devastated with endearment every time he meets Joshua - his heart simply cannot take this is kind of reaction and this wasn't even the first time he'd seen him.

Joshua smiled wider as Jun let out a sigh.

"That's alright, I wasn't expecting one." He gave a look to Jun that Jihoon couldn't quite make out, but made his stomach churn in panic nonetheless. He'd been in the house for less than three minutes and had already managed to make a fool out of himself. How he wished he was watching Shrek 2 under his blanket at the minute. "But whether it's yours or not, be careful with that punch because I'm pretty sure my roommate made it and he's got an alcohol tolerance stronger than steel, it's bound to be full of something heavy.

Jihoon could have guessed that one: the initial adrenaline had worn off but Jihoon was sure he couldn't feel the floor beneath his feet. (Then again, that could just have been Joshua's effect all along.)

"I'll make sure he behaves," Jun jumped in, surely noticing Jihoon needed to be rescued.

"Oh, by all means, have as much fun as you like," Joshua countered and smiled again - or had he not stopped smiling? Jihoon should have known, he had been staring. "What are parties for if not?"

"Are you okay?" Jun laughed. Jihoon watched Joshua's back retreat into the crowd and suddenly felt the world snap back into focus. 

"Yeah," Jihoon responded but found his hands unknowingly returning to the punch bowl for something for his try throat to bask in. "Yeah, I'm fine." He wasn't. Jihoon had a serious case of the love-struck syndrome, but even if he can look back now and understand that, Jihoon then would've gone to romance last and probably alcohol hallucination first.

Jihoon took his fourth shot. Or was it his fifth? He couldn’t remember taking his third shot, either and he laughed along to whatever Jun was laughing at beside him. He had no idea at what, but someone across the circle was talking and she must have been funny because everyone howled whenever she opened her mouth.

“I’m going to go and get some pizza!” Jun shouted over the music, a little louder than what necessary, his arm slung firmly around Jihoon’s shoulders. “Don’t move because you will get lost.”

No, he wouldn’t. Jihoon was a grown man, and the apartment was tiny. How did he get on the balcony again? Wait, this apartment has a fucking balcony? Jihoon needed to know the name of Joshua’s real estate agent immediately.

Jihoon found his hands gripping the cold, metal railing, four stories above the street below and peeked over. The ground for sure was fluctuating in the distance, getting closer and further and closer and further. In the corner, against the brick wall, two people were making out rather aggressively and Jihoon would have been embarrassed for being present but pretty much his entire face felt numb at this point - he wouldn’t be able to feel the embarrassment anyway. A gust of wind made him realise he was burning up though, skin hot to touch as he rubbed his eyes, vision throbbing and dull at the edges. He groaned, not sure of how loud, and rested his head in the crook of his elbows.

This (with a vague gesture to everything from the get-go) was a big mistake. He was drunk. Jun was drunk. They have to get home somehow and walking through the busy town streets to their campus didn't sound like the best idea if neither of them could stand up straight. They won’t get past the RA in any capacity and will probably have to sleep in the library (again). And Jihoon didn’t want to do that, he was scared of the librarian. 

On the other hand, however, Jihoon had totally forgotten what he was worried about three hours ago. Or was it four? Jihoon checked his watch and couldn’t tell which hand was which. He dropped into a squat, staying balanced by his hands gripping the railing and rubbed his face against his strikingly cold hands.

“I wouldn’t consider jumping. You’ll just end up with a few bones facing the wrong way.”

 _That voice._ Jihoon peeked up (his eyes were getting really heavy and it was a shame to have to force them open). Joshua stood over him, a bottle of water in hand and that gorgeous smile tugging at his lips. He appeared, like an angel, just when Jihoon needed him.

Jihoon hummed and swayed slighting on his perch. “Do you do that a lot?”

“Do what?” Joshua’s tone was more amused than questioning and Jihoon felt his stomach twist. 

“Hover around people so you can make comments that perfectly introduce yourself into the moment?”

Joshua laughed and nodded. “I’m taking an improv class, it's teaching me a lot about timing.”

Jihoon couldn’t stop himself from snorting. “Improv? What are you, white?” Joshua the comedian. God, that’s sexy.

“Drink some water, Jihoon.”

Jihoon headbutt the bottle. 

“With your mouth, not your forehead.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“I kind of don’t want you to be sick on my doorman, thank you. I already have a noise warning.”

“But you seem so nice.”

“I live with some noisy people.” Joshua urged the bottle towards Jihoon again. “Please?”

Oh, Christ almighty that was hot. In the most innocently destructive way possible.

Jihoon stood and felt the pressure of his body rush both to his head and then returned to his stomach. He stumbled backwards and felt Joshua’s arm secure him around the lower back. 

“Uh, oh. Don’t do that.”

Jihoon straightened, blinked and accepted the water bottle from Joshua’s hand. He gulped three times and then handed it back.

“You feel alright?” Joshua asked and Jihoon nodded and, maybe unintentionally, maybe on his own degree, curled closer to Joshua’s body heat.

“Why don’t you call it a night? I’ll call an Uber, you and Jun—”

“Whaaaaat?” Jihoon scoffed. “Please, I’m fine. I’ve drunk more than this in my lifetime.” He hiccuped once and covered his mouth and smiled up at Joshua. “I’m pretty much a walking stomach pump.”

“Hm, interesting choice of analogy. But, you can’t stand upright, Jihoon.”

“Standing is overrated. I want to lie down.”

“You should.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Jihoon jabbed a finger into Joshua’s chest. Honestly, who does he think he is? Telling Jihoon to lie down like he owns the place.

Jihoon squints up at Joshua and pauses. God, he really was beautiful, even more so under the light of the moon. Did he realise this when he first met him? Or did he just gloss over that in order to not miss the last of the eclair fingers on offer at the buffet table? His bone structure was unimaginable, cheekbones galore and his nose was just so _perfect_ \- Jihoon wanted to touch it.

He raised a hand up but came to the realisation a second too late. Joshua gave him a questioning look, still doused in endearment, but Jihoon saved it, incredibly, if he does say so, by reaching around and touching Joshua’s hair instead. Yes, excellent, that’ll of throw him off.

“Just checking it was still there for you.”

“You got me, it's a wig.” 

“Not a weave?”

“Didn’t have my colour.”

Jihoon laughed and then Joshua laughed and if Jihoon could fill a whiskey glass of that he'd get drunk on it forever. It was sweet and airy and Joshua’s nose crinkled when he did it and Jihoon had to shut up before he said something he regrets.

“You’re…”

“I’m what?”

“You’re just so…”

And then Jihoon dropped, passed out safely in between Joshua’s indecently toned biceps and resting his head against his stone solid chest.

Jihoon woke, by default, at seven A.M. He’d trained his body to do that since he was young since a lifetime of early musical lessons required it. He noticed the mattress he lay on was soft and bouncy, unusual to the rock bed he had in his own dorm, so he must be somewhere other than home. Unless he’s dead with alcohol poisoning and has woken up on a cloud, ready to meet the Big Guy upstairs finally. (He has a lot of questions. Number one - was the height thing personal or just an accident?)

He opened his eyes and blinked for several minutes. Blinding, agonising pain ricocheted around his skull as he lift his heavy head off the pillow and took in his surroundings: exposed brick walls; light pouring in; white covers strewn across a double bed; and Joshua curled up in the armchair in the opposite corner of the room.

Huh. Not the sight Jihoon was expecting, but one that ultimately can be dealt with. 

That was a lie - Jihoon already had the nervous sweats. He was still dressed, albeit with one shoe on, the other sat on the floor next to him, so by some degree of guessing, Jihoon and Joshua did _not_ have sex (recalling his earlier statement) which was excellent because Jihoon would have no idea where to even begin in unpacking that on his conscious. It's not that he was a prude or anything, he'd rather just prefer if he were sober the first time he had sex with Joshua. With anyone, for that matter. But still, he was in the deep end here. Jihoon had no idea where to begin handling waking up in someone else’s bed - if sex was involved he’d at least have a reason to leave as soon as he could. What does he do now? Leave a thank you note? Wake Joshua up? Nothing in his life has prepared him for this moment. The annoying kids asking if anything they learn in Calculus will help them in the real world had a point with that one.

Jihoon managed to control the throbbing of his brain long enough to leave the bed and stand, before nausea came at him in a sudden, hectic wave and he had to brace himself against the adjacent windowsill to will the surge of bile threatening his relatively clean garments. 

He spotted his coat hung over the chair tucked under the desk on the other side of the bed and shuffled as slowly and as quietly as he could to retrieve it. He fished through the pockets for his phone. The ultimate objective here was to get out without waking Joshua. He'd rather die now than have to have a conversation with Joshua again and bring up anything embarrassing that Jihoon might of done. He's ready for God to take him and spare him from the suffering of knowing there was someone in the world who had witnessed him drink his way into silly plunder, more so knowing that he had no idea what he's got up to last night either. He could just ask Jun to text him thank you. Maybe. Or he could just disappear forever and not have to see him again. That was also an option. Maybe he could—

_Clang!_

Jihoon’s keys cluttered to the floor in a clump. He stared at them for a moment as if waiting for an apology for their obscenely traitorous act before turning his attention to the stifled groan from the armchair behind him.

“Thanks, I wanted to be up this early anyway.”

Wincing, Jihoon bent down and clamped a clammy hand around the key set, muting any more noise from them as he looked at Joshua. 

“I’m sorry,” he said and had to divert his eyes to the wall since Joshua’s face was makeup-less and puffy and it was the only thing this morning other than his stomach that made him feel like he had butterflies. “I was just leaving.”

“Awh, but I’d planned for us to have brunch and everything.” Joshua smiled and uncurled himself, joints clicking as he stretched his body. Jihoon felt his cheeks heat up impossibly more when he glimpsed the rise of Joshua’s shirt, revealing his hip bones his lower abdomen.

“Thank you for letting me use your bed,” Jihoon said. “And sorry for taking it from you.”

“Oh, it’s not mine. It’s my roommates, but he left with someone anyway. It was just the closest room to carry you too.”

“Carry me?” Jihoon gaped, the tepid blush being replaced by a roaring heat of embarrassment. “Was I bad?”

“No, you’re pretty light actually. Plus, I’ve been working out, though not to brag…” Joshua smiled at Jihoon, whose face resembled a nasty case of sunburn. “You were passed out, but you won’t remember that.”

Jihoon squeezed the keys so hard they dug crevices into his palms. 

“I’m really sorry.”

Joshua scrunched his nose and shook his head in dismissal. “Please, I had a party to have fun, and it looks like you did.”

“Did Jun get home safe?”

“Yeah, John text and he’s back in his dorm.”

Jihoon nodded and folded his coat over his arms. All he wanted to do was sink into a hole and sleep for a hundred years: one, to live out Joshua and never have to face this shame again and two, to calm the _fucking_ headache he's enduring.

“Would you like something to drink? Or eat? I’m sure I could make something to help the…” he motioned towards his head and Jihoon felt his heart catch fire.

_Please, I’d love that. Thank you._

“I really should be going. Thank you, though.”

Jihoon had to go. Joshua examined him with a look he couldn’t watch long enough to place, but it burnt his skin to think about shrinking under it for much longer.

“No problem. Do you have a lift home?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon lied. “I text Soonyoung, he’s coming to get me.”

“Great. I’ll walk you out.” Joshua smiled again and left the bedroom, Jihoon seconds behind him. Through the landing, there were four doors facing each other in twos and were framed by a balcony. They walked down the open set of stairs into the main reception area, Jihoon having a vague recollection of passing drinks around the room the night before. The room now was a mess: red cups and empty bottles; discarded pizza boxes and deflated balloons littered every surface, and one man standing in the centre of the mess with a black bin bag and medical gloves. 

“Oh, good of you to help me finally,” the man commented as the pair descended the staircase.

“It’s seven in the morning, Cheol, no one is up this early.” Joshua turned back to Jihoon, who grimaced at the mess he probably helped create. “Jihoon, Seungcheol. You might have met him last night, he’s one of my roommates.”

“Hi,” Jihoon greeted with a warm smile. “Sorry, about the mess.”

Seungcheol waved him off. “What are parties for? As long as you had fun.”

_I would, if I could remember it._

“Jihoon’s a friend of Jun’s. You know Jun, John’s boyfriend Kun’s friend?”

Seungcheol snorted a short laugh. “Jun and Kun. You go to U of S?”

Jihoon nodded. “Music.”

“Phys Ed,” Seungcheol replied. “We beat your department in the tug of war at the rally.”

“Of course you did, you’re all gym rats high on protein shakes.” Joshua ducked as Seungcheol swung the bag at him.

“I’ll come help you in a second, I’m just seeing Jihoon out.”

“Whatever. Lovely to meet you, Jihoon."

“And you!”

Joshua closed the apartment door behind him and leaned against the frame as Jihoon slugged into the elevator.

“Be careful on the way down,” Joshua said. “It can get quite—” he paused and patted his abdomen “—rigid.”

Jihoon’s face flushed again but smiled. God, he wished this morning would just end. He wished his life would just return back to beings simple and stressless.

“Thank you again. For everything.”

Joshua scrunched his nose up for the last time.

“No worries. Oh, hey, let me give you my number.” He reached out and Jihoon, wary of the clammy hand he’d been gripping his cell with for the whole exchange, unlocked it and opened up a new contact. “So I can invite you directly next time, rather go through the network.”

Jihoon’s throat was so close to constricting he could barely utter an, “Okay.” as his phone was slid back into his hand.

“I’ll, uh… see you around sometime?” 

Jihoon nodded as the lift grate shuddered closed and the heavy door slid up.

And saw him around Jihoon did.

Joshua caught him coming out of his lectures and they'd get a coffee; Jihoon would bump into him at the library and they pass notes from behind textbooks thicker than their heads; Joshua would invite him to parties and shotgun kiss him and Jihoon's knees would go weak every time he just barely felt those lips. Most importantly, to Jihoon at least, they talked. After the first few adrenaline scored instances where Joshua would text first and Jihoon would throw his phone at his roommates to deal with it for him, they talked quite regularly. They'd sit on the grass in the heart of the campus when it was warm, and ignore the chime of the clock signalling another passed hour in exchange for a good conversation. They'd sit in Jihoon dorm room and share an itchy blanket and watch the films of their childhood while ignoring the blatant issues and how straight-up bad the live-action Scooby-Doos were. They'd sit on the roof of Joshua's apartment building ("The tape doesn't mean anything, just climb over it," Joshua said and Jihoon knew he was lying) and place bets on who could make out a constellation the quickest while they talked about anything. Jihoon would always win and Joshua would always say that Jihoon just had an eye for pretty things. Oh, if only he knew.

Jihoon loved to talk with Joshua. He always laughed at the funny things he'd say and never thought of him weirdly if he asked an out-there question. In fact, he encouraged them.

"Milk or cereal first?"

Joshua snorted. "That's over asked and the debate is stupid." He took a long sip from his cup. "And for the record, I don't even have milk in my cereal."

Jihoon, for just a second, considered forcing himself out of this stupid crush. "What?" He squinted at Joshua who laughed. "How? What, you just drink dry, crusty cereal?"

"I'm lactose intolerant! And I don't like how almond milk tastes with Cap'N'Crunch."

Jihoon shook his head. "The more I learn about you, the more worried I get."

"Fine, just to appease you, if I _did_ have milk in my cereal, it'd be cereal first."

"Thank you, your honour has been restored." Jihoon broke off a strawberry lace and feed it past his teeth.

"Ask me another," Joshua said and opened his hand for one without being offered. Jihoon gave it to him anyway.

"Immortality, yes or no?"

Joshua bit the edge of his red solo cup and hummed. "Why not."

"Really?"

Joshua smiled and shuffled to get comfortable in the deck chair sat next to Jihoon. "Yeah, I don't see why not."

Jihoon pursed his lips shortly. "What about all your friends and family dying?"

"Well, obviously I'll be sad when they do but I can make more friends."

Jihoon snorted a laugh as Joshua stammered to explain himself.

"I _mean..._ look at this way, how many friends have you had in your life that you don't talk to anymore?"

Jihoon looked at Joshua, who's entire everything shone in the wisp of the night breeze, glowing in the moonlight.

"A few," he answered.

"And how many of those are so devastating you'd give up seeing the future to talk to again?"

"Alright," Jihoon said, turning to fiddle with the tassels on his blanket, "you've made your point."

Joshua tipped more coke into Jihoon's cup.

"I just think it'd be cool to see where we are in a hundred years," Joshua added and Jihoon noted how he wistfully pointed his chin to the sky and rest his arms behind his head. Now was an inappropriate time to check out Joshua's biceps but he did it anyway.

"Space?" Jihoon asked.

"Hm," Joshua responded and his smile lines sank deep around his lips and Jihoon swore he already saw a galaxy in his eyes. "I'd love to be on the space ship that leaves when the earth dies."

Jihoon snorted again. "I'll donate my kidney and my good lung to help you pay for it."

"You'll come with me, obviously. You can stow away in my suitcase."

Jihoon looked at Joshua and felt his heart inexplicably start to hammer. "I can?"

Joshua frowned as if it was evident. "Of course," he said. "I've known you for a year, and I don't know anyone else who will let me watch Shrek 2 and eat my body weight in Jolly Ranchers with them."

Jihoon didn't have a reply and found himself watching the way Joshua's chest rose and fell with every deep breath he took in, like he was trying to save the air of the moment and lock it tight in his lungs. Jihoon kept it close too like it was a memory at risk of slipping through his fingers and disappearing into the black of the night.

Joshua agreed to join the band at the end of Jihoon's sophomore year. He'd been looking for an electric guitarist for a handful of months, but the best on on campus, Jae, had been swept up by Sungjin to play in a band that actually wrote their own music. Whatever. Jihoon wasn't mad at it, he swore he wasn't. The lack of a lead guitarist meant the band was close to caving in before they even got started and Jihoon felt his hopes dwindling slowly.

"'A throwback tribute band,'" Joshua read from one of the many poster Soonyoung insisted Jihoon plastered all over campus. "I hope that means you'll be wearing Party City ABBA costumes at all your gigs."

Jihoon snatched the poster from him and tucks it into his work shirt. "No, we will not. Not if Seungkwan stays in his lane. It's focused more around the late 90s and 00s. The pop-punk-rock songs that get overplayed at school dances."

"Like Mr Brightside?" 

"Like Mr Brightside." Jihoon turned back to reorganizing the vinyl shelf.

"That's my favourite song." 

"Really?" Jihoon asked and Joshua nodded, fingers dancing over the cassette tapes stacked in neat rows (Jihoon's handiwork).

"It's the first song I learnt how to play on the guitar. That and Misery Business when I was twelve."

"By Paramore?" 

"The very same."

Jihoon's stomach had an infestation of butterflies because it refused to sit still. "You play?"

"Yeah, a little." 

Jihoon spun on his heels instantly. "We need a guitarist!" he announced and Joshua's gorgeous doe eyes blinked at him

"Oh, no I don't think— I mean, I'm not very good."

"Of course you are," Jihoon insisted.

Joshua scoffed and smiled. "You haven't heard me play."

"I don't have to."

For a split second, Jihoon saw a dust of pink colour Joshua's cheeks. He'd made Joshua Hong blush. He wanted to fall into those eyes and never have to leave.

"I don't know—" 

Jihoon didn't want him to finish. "Just come by the first room on floor four of the PA building tomorrow, at six. Play for me then and then I can decide."

"I'm glad this is just up to you to decide," Joshua laughed. He let out a sigh but the smile never left his face. "I guess I can clear some time in my schedule."

Before Jihoon could think better of it, he jumped into Joshua's arms and hugged him tightly. After a second, when the warmth of Joshua's body finally hit him, he jerked back, his eyes blown and lips stammering to make an excuse. Joshua looked at him, though, with a grin, smile lines proving his happiness. His hands were on Jihoon's waist while Jihoon rested his on his shoulders and he found himself frozen in place, drowning in the feeling of being so close to him, being so personal with their bodies desperate inches apart.

Jihoon half expected Joshua to push him away, but instead, his sweet honey voice said, "You're not going to pass out this time, right?" and it was Jihoon's turn to blush, and as much as he didn't want to, Jihoon moved his hands and took a step back, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck. 

"So, uh, six tomorrow? I'll see you there?"

Joshua nodded, folding his hands into his pockets. "First floor, fourth room?"

"No, fourth floor, first room."

"Got it."

Jihoon turned back to the shelf and closed his eyes before he did or said anything else to embarrass himself with. Jihoon touched his cheeks and felt them searing against his cold fingers.

"Oh, and Jihoon?"

"Hm?" Jihoon turned back and saw Joshua hold up a well-loved copy of Shania Twain's Come On Over for 5.99.

"Can I get this while I'm here?"

Jihoon nearly passed out from how hard he felt like he was falling.

In reality, Jihoon wasn't that crazy about 2000s pop-punk rock. Naturally, the serotonin that flooded him every time he heard Avril Lavigne was hard to ignore and even he could admit that he felt some type of way when he heard Fergie but Jihoon knew his taste - and talents - lay in the piano (the power ballads, Seungkwan would argue, but Jihoon would die before he admitted to that.) Jihoon wrote for the piano the most. He composed and produced on the base programme that came on his computer at home and then when he got back to school for the semester, his personal tutor allowed him to mix them into fully finished songs for a few points of extra credits if what he made was any good.

The summer between his sophomore and junior years Jihoon hadn't written a single note.

The feeling of being blocked weighed down on him like Santa's sack was full of industrial cement, so much so that he felt so guilty he was nearly sick whenever he looked at his piano. He, Soonyoung, Jun and Wonwoo moved into their new apartment two months ago and he still hadn't unpacked his equipment yet.

"Have you tried listening to music?" Jun asked. He must have realised he was talking to Jihoon, of all people, from the way his eyes instantly retreated to his ice cream pot after he said it. "Stupid question," he muttered.

"Maybe you just need a new environment to get inspiration," Wonwoo suggested. "It happens when I get writer's block. We can go cafe hunting if you'd like, this weekend?"

Jihoon considered it for a second before declining. Of course, in his head, the only way to get anything productive done was to bully himself into it until he forced the songs out of it. Which is how he ended up in music room one on floor four of the Performing Arts building, at 11:46 on a Friday evening after a long first-week back, fueled on nothing but three cans of Coke and the pure hatred of his unsuccessful reapings. He scribbled out the last three lines of lyrics, knowing they'd go nowhere and let his head hit the keys on his grand piano. Thank God he was in a cover band because if he had to write their songs, he'd have tanked their whole career by this point.

After what felt like an hour (but in reality, was only seven minutes) Jihoon picked his head up and poised his hands at the keys, beginning the soft melody of Thank You For The Music, the words naturally falling from his lips without even trying to sing them. If there was anything in the world Jihoon loved more than his grandma, it was music. As cliche as it sounded, music transcended all languages and spoke only through feeling. When words failed, the melody was there to talk to whoever wanted to listen. It could be sad, it could be melancholy, it could be unabashedly happiness or desperate yearning - it didn't matter how you felt before, it mattered what you felt after. Jihoon closed his eyes. He was on stage, a silent concert hall sat watching him but he didn't feel scared at all. He didn't have to speak, he didn't have to tell anyone how he felt or why he felt it, because they just understood. The song he played let them know exactly what he wanted them to, nothing more nothing less, no worry of being misunderstood or taken out of context and, best of all, no one could tell him he was wrong for it. In song, he didn't have to do anything but feel.

He finished, pressed the last key and paused. He'd opened his eyes, but still felt the eyes of the audience on him. It was like a chill settled over him as the music slipped away from him, a blanket yanked away leaving him cold and exposed. The song wasn't protecting him anymore and his feelings were open for judgement. He turned around and saw Joshua standing by the entrance and felt his insides twist like a contortionist.

"Hi," he said, trying to act like he'd not been shocked. 

"I'm sorry," Joshua replied quickly. "I didn't mean to intrude I just..." he looked around like he was searching for his words in the room. "It's just John told me that Kun told him that Jun said you were... here."

Joshua had been looking for him. "Well. I am here."

Joshua fiddled with the sleeves of his jumper. "How was your summer?" He asked and started towards the piano, almost cautiously as if he was scared to step on a wrong floorboard.

Terrible. "Not bad. You?"

"The usual." The silence settled between them and Jihoon was scared to breathe too hard. He felt like he'd been spied on, his safety bubble violated just by being watched. "You sounded really good."

Jihoon looked at Joshua before he sheepishly looked back to his knees.

"I mean, you always do, but... it's different hearing you sing a ballad as opposed to, you know... Smash Mouth."

Jihoon smiled and sensed Joshua was coming closer without even looking up. The blood rushed around his ears and he felt the nerves fry under his skin. His leg bounced and he twitched to cover all his sheet music before Joshua could see.

"Are you composing?" 

Too late.

Jihoon jerked without intending too but his hands stayed frozen on the keys. "Uh. Kinda. Not really. Not recently. Not much done." He's not even making sense. 

"May I?" Joshua outstretched a hand and Jihoon almost reached for it before he realised he was motioning to the spare space on the stool.

"Sure." Jihoon wriggled over to make room, the leather squeaking under him lewdly. ("That was the chair," he added.) Joshua sat next to him and looked at the pages upon pages of scribbled out notes and annotations and clef and note doodles. Jihoon's skin was hot, shame making his chest ache as if Joshua was reading his diary, not his music. 

"Can you play it?" he asked and Jihoon dug his nails into his palms to stop himself from shaking. 

"It's bad clearly, its, uh, not done, or anywhere near it," he stammers, going to shuffle the pages together while Joshua shrugged. 

"Like I would know the difference if it's not good." He watched Jihoon with tender eyes, and Jihoon allowed the comfort they gave to sink past his skin.

Finally, Jihoon swallowed his reserve and shouted at himself in his own head for being so ridiculous. This was Joshua. He liked Joshua. He trusted Joshua. Joshua was sweet and kind and wouldn't laugh at him if he thought his music was stupid. But like a mole burrowing its way through his mind, the doubt gave the fight of its life. He turned to the piano, fingers trembling and begun to play.

"I don't have any lyrics," Jihoon admitted, flashing his eyes between the keys and Joshua, the rhythm burned into his mind after working on it for four hours straight. All the while, Joshua's eyes never left him. It made Jihoon's breath shiver. He finished the last note and scratched the back of his neck. "It's nowhere near as fluid as I'd like it to be," he said, wincing as he remembered the clunky sounds of the keys as he tried to figure out the tune as he played it. "And I think that's only just, like, the first part of it. Honestly, it's not even that great, it's probably unoriginal—"

"It was beautiful."

Jihoon stopped short and looked at Joshua. Joshua looked right back before he blinked and found anywhere else to land his gaze. 

"Yeah, it was really good. I liked it. It sounded simple."

Jihoon frowned. "Thanks, I think?"

"No, no, I meant—" Joshua stammered to explain himself. "I meant, it sounded... simple. Effortless. Like I just... understood. Without needing to worry, it was just simple."

"Simple." Jihoon chewed his lip.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to offend, it was just—"

Jihoon, rather rudely, held up his hand suddenly, and positioned his hands back on the keys, picking up the song from the middle, humming along, injecting a word here or a run there, until he sang: "I just want it simple."

Joshua looked at him in astonishment as Jihoon quickly scribbled down any word he grasped onto and muttered. "Simple."

"So did I end up helping?" Joshua asked when Jihoon set down his pen. 

Jihoon looked at him. "I could kiss you."

Joshua smiled, eyes sinking into his cheeks and Jihoon wanted to bash his face into the piano. 

"I would but my lips are chapped," he responded and Jihoon would like for Thor to strike him down with a bolt of thunder, he's done on this mortal plain for now.

Joshua left a short while later, citing he had an early class tomorrow, and after Jihoon had been around the thought process of the best way to disappear without a trace. Twice. The minute he left Jihoon slumped in a heap over the piano, face red and heart hammering. 

"I hate you, Joshua Hong," he muttered and lay there for a minute while he thought of all the ways he'd like to kiss the senior without ever having to talk about his feelings again. He sat up, eventually and found the song at his fingertips, no resistance as he sat and wrote until the sun-filled the room and basked him in soft rays of sunlight.

* * *

On Wednesdays, the band rehearsed in a disused music room in the left-wing of the Performing Arts building. In between Seokmin yodelling into the microphone and Seungkwan teaching Jeonghan how to, as the kids say, throw it back, Jihoon scribbled down lyrics on the back of the three-year-old tutoring service poster pinned to the bulletin board outside. Then he went back to working Tearin' Up My Heart into a chord progression. Behind him, Joshua sat on the piano stool and blew a bubble of gum, popped it and gently strummed a guitar with no amp attached. (Jihoon silently thanked him: the other three were making enough noise for all of them.) Jihoon's brain attached instantly to the melody. 

"Sex on Fire?" he asked, and Joshua looked up at him, with a smile. "That's not on our setlist."

Jihoon thought for a second he should have made his sarcasm more apparent, but Joshua smiled anyway.

"I was eleven when this song came out," he said, flipping the book in front of him back a page and following the sheet music. "I'm not sure I understood it then but I would beg my mom to play it in the car wherever we went."

Jihoon hummed in response and went to open his mouth before Seungkwan got his chance to interject.

"If we're doing NSYNC you know we have to do choreography, right? We can't do 2000s boybands and not do choreography."

"Seungkwan, we have instruments to play, that's gonna make dancing and singing live pretty hard," Joshua responded. "Unless you want to do choreographed line dancing."

"Well, it'll be our last show for a while right? So we should do something special."

Jihoon honed himself in on the conversation. "Wait, our last show?"

The four of them looked at Jihoon and Jihoon looked back. 

"Well, yeah, finals are coming up and we agreed on a break for so we could study."

Jihoon nodded. "Oh, yeah, yeah. Sorry, I forgot."

"Anyway, Joshua and Jeonghan, you both will be graduating, so what's the likelihood of you actually getting a chance to perform with us again?"

The pen that Jihoon swung around his fingers clattered to the piano keys and he tried to play it off as intentional as he felt Joshua eyes on him. Jihoon hadn't thought of that, but he sure felt it now, like a void had opened in the pit of his stomach and was slowly eating away at him inside. He'd completely neglected, during his regular day trips to his fantasy land that was always a reassuring constant in the back of his mind, to factor in that Joshua wasn't a constant. He'd be leaving college soon and going out into the world to make something more of himself that would be wasted in the small university town if he stuck around. In a twisted way, Jihoon felt betrayed, not by Joshua but by himself, his own head and his own heart for letting this silly crush get so out of hand that he feels an unnerving sense of dread knowing in barely a month more Joshua wouldn't be around to make his heart hammer anymore. And on top of that, Joshua's departure would mean the inevitable progression of the food chain, and Jihoon and his roommates would become seniors, which meant they had to start actually thinking about their own futures and that was a can of worms Jihoon was not ready to open yet. In conclusion, Jihoon's life would be a lot simpler if Joshua just didn't go. 

Joshua walked Jihoon home that night. It wasn't uncommon for that to happen. It was like Joshua had an insatiable itch to be the kindest person anyone knew, so much so that he'd go out of his way (i.e, thirty minutes in the opposite direction of his own apartment) to make sure that happened. For some reason, Jihoon didn't say no, even though he knew whatever he said, Joshua would go with him anyway. Joshua was like that, almost defiantly kind and protective, so shoot Jihoon for allowing himself to bask in it for just one evening when they were gradually running out.

"Are you okay?" Joshua asked, some five minutes from Jihoon's apartment. (And here he was, thinking he'd manage to escape one evening without the tough questions being asked.)

"Yeah?" Jihoon answered, his high tone exposing his facade. "Are you?" He gripped the satchel strap that sat around his shoulders.

Jihoon could hear the smile in Joshua's voice as he replied. "Yeah, I'm good. You just seemed a little shit off towards the end of the practice. Is anything bothering you?"

Joshua was _just_ so like that. Able to pick up on the smallest of cues, the slightest change of tone in the room. You could move a book an inch to its left and Joshua would pick up on the thrown off balance. Jihoon remembered all the times he'd been able to notice when Jihoon wasn't feeling the party or he was uncomfortable on stage and did everything he could to prevent the almost certain breakdown that would ensue. Joshua had been witness to only one of Jihoon's emotional overspills and Jihoon vowed that would never happen again - crying and ice cream was reserved for friends like his roommates, not the friends your head over heels for.

"Yeah." Jihoon should have finished there, but he continued. "It's just..." Too late, he'd committed himself to this now.

Joshua didn't press. He knew to give Jihoon his time.

"Thinking."

"Oh, that's dangerous."

Jihoon tutted and purposely stumbled to the left to push Joshua into the empty road.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Joshua said. "Go on, thinking about what?"

Jihoon considered his words carefully. The worst thing he could do now is come across in any capacity like he was desperate for Joshua to not go. Not that he was desperate or anything. Right? It's not like he'll be staying up crying in Wonwoo's lap or into Soonyoung's pillow because his close friend and long-time infatuation was graduating. Of course not. That'd just be immature.

"Just about the future."

"Oh, no you are actually scaring me now."

Jihoon chuckled shortly and lapsed into a comfortable silence with Joshua until the senior spoke up.

"You'll do fine, you know that."

Jihoon turned his head to look at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Joshua smiled. "I mean, where you go after you graduate, you'll fuck shit up in the best way."

Jihoon tossed his head back and laughed as Joshua snickered to himself. 

"Thank you, I honestly really needed to hear that." They stopped at the steps of Jihoon's apartment building and thank God that Joshua was paying attention because Jihoon would of kept walking forever with him.

"I wish I could stay another year," Joshua said suddenly and as Jihoon looked up from his key, he saw how Joshua had fixed his eyes on the wonky slab sitting on the third step. 

"Do you?" Jihoon prompted, surprised how his voice came out in barely a whisper. 

Joshua looked at him then and leaned against the lone tree, planted to add a dash of colour in the endless rows of greys and browns. "I mean, you can't run that band all on your own, can you?"

Jihoon creased his brow but smiled. "Sure I can. I went into Music Business for a reason."

"Wow, okay, make it clear you don't want me around, I get it." Joshua didn't move as Jihoon rest his head against his shoulder. "I don't, I don't have a clue what I'm going to do after I graduate."

Jihoon brought his head up and found his lips unnervingly close to Joshua's. His thoughts short-circuited, the only thing filling his mind was the curve of Joshua's lips inches from his own, glossed and pink and more inviting than anything Jihoon had ever seen. This was everything Jihoon had wanted for as long as he knew Joshua. Just one kiss would make the last three years wondering and dreaming worth it, like he wasn't just a stupid boy with a stupid crush on another stupid, albeit incredibly handsome and charming boy. He could feel his breath catch in his throat, the battering of his heart as the blood rushed passed his eyes and he drove his stare from Joshua's mouth to the brown of his eyes and drew in the sparkle that shone in them. 

But for a second, Jihoon paused. Is this what he wanted? Is this what he needed? If Joshua kissed him now, it'd mean something, something that wouldn't matter in a months time. Jihoon had waited for three years for this moment, but in the back of his mind, he knew that the longing that he'd sunk in for all that time would swallow him deeper. Joshua would graduate and they'd convince themselves they'd make it work when in reality Joshua would go out into the big wide world and forget anything with Jihoon ever happened because that's just how it always was and would be. Jihoon wanted nothing more than to just dive headfirst into the waves and let the ocean take him whatever way it wanted him to go, and he wanted to do that with Joshua, but for once he set his better judgement first, for himself and took a tiny step back.

It flashed in Joshua's eyes for a second before his face switched from anticipation to confusion. "I'm sorry," he said instantly. "I thought—"

"It's okay," Jihoon interrupted. "Don't worry." The words felt foreign on his lips, like tainted lies that dripped a tasteless venom into the warm pools of Joshua's invitation, and the heat started to slowly seep away from him. Jihoon already felt the tears well up from the sting in the back of his throat. He didn't have anything else to say to him. He muttered a soft, "I'm sorry too." 

Instead of enacting the worst-case scenario and freaking out, Joshua smiled and put a respectable amount of distance between them, no more than a distance suitable for close friends. Because that's what they were. And that's what they'll always be. 

"Goodnight, Jihoon," he had said and Jihoon wanted nothing more than to just curl up into a ball and never speak to anyone again.

Joshua's eyes had stars in them that Jihoon knew he'd not be able to wish on.

* * *

Senior year came and went and Jihoon graduated with honours. Jun and Wonwoo had gone onto do masters degrees and had given both Soonyoung and Jihoon teary send-offs as they boarded a plane heading for the Golden Coast. Not even the business side of his course could have prepared Jihoon for the extortionate rent prices in L.A. 

"Do you think it would breach my moral compass if I signed up for Seeking Arrangement?" Soonyoung asked. He flipped through that month's pile of bills, the fan blasting air directly into his face. They shared a two-bedroom apartment with a stranger they met on Craigslist (against Jihoon's better judgement) who actually turned out to be a decent choice. Chan was three years younger than both of them yet managed to have his life much more organised than either of them. He was an aspiring dancer, much like Soonyoung and had managed to score his new roommate a background position in their local dance troupe. Jihoon sat next to him now, on the single bed he slept on in the corner of the main room, separated from the rest of the lounge by a set of portable dividers.

"Absolutely not," Chan responded and Jihoon nodded in agreement. "I'll drive you to your dick appointments if a cut goes back to fixing the fucking A.C." He fanned himself with the collection of audition flyers Jihoon had accumulated over the weekend. Jihoon's hookups hadn't been as easy. In the three months, he and Soonyoung had been in Los Angeles he'd been to audition upon casting call upon busking-street-corner, had alerts on for openings in music production, music direction, music and event specialist, recording specialist, studio engineer, studio manager, and just about anything that his very, if he does say so himself, versatile degree wouldn't be scoffed at. (He'd already been through that one already.) He was killing his time working, of course, but saving for a mixer board was hard when it was 4.60 for a cup of coffee. He missed college. If he wanted to make a song there, all he had to do was kiss a little tutor ass (or, realistically, get a classmate to do it and follow them to the music room) and he'd have free reign for a couple of hours. Now he has to save upwards of a thousand to even consider a good one, let alone an apartment where his space wasn't reduced to a corner.

"Yeah, go for it," Jihoon added. "We could get a better place too."

"Yes!" Chan agreed. "And I could do with some gas money every now and again."

"Alright, I'm not becoming _your_ sugar daddy. You've got enough cake to do that yourself."

"I feel honoured while simultaneously objectified."

Jihoon scrolled through another page of job openings and stuck his lips out in thought. Obviously, he knew it wasn't going to be easy - the number of young hopefuls who flooded to the City of Angels every year with dreams of making it big and who left none the richer was proof enough that making it big was reserved for few. Jihoon was patient and willing to work, but on the other hand, how much space would there be for him by the time he got even close to making it.

Now, he knows what you're thinking. Its been a year, more than that, in fact, and Jihoon had tried not to think about him in that time. Once Joshua graduated, Jihoon didn't sleep right for a while. For a long while actually. It might have taken all summer for the agonizing feeling of guilt to settle in his stomach, but the minute he passed Joshua's old apartment building on his way to campus for the first time in senior year, he might have cried. It was a work in progress.

He felt he owed Joshua an apology. After three years of wanting to kiss Joshua, Jihoon wouldn't have thought for a second that Joshua wanted to kiss him back. In his head, he knows he didn't let it happen for both of their own goods, but the what-if still ate at his heart every single day. 

Whatever. He'll get over it. He's nearly twenty-three and it's not like, in this city of over four million people, Jihoon would never fall in love with anyone else.

* * *

Jihoon often pulled double shifts in a cafe near the corner of Sunset and Hayworth and found out a lot about himself working in such a demanding public field. Namely, his people skills were worse than he'd ever imagined, and that he really doesn't like working under pressure. Sure, he was no _stranger_ to pressure - he'd just finished college for Christ's sake, he knew more than one or two things about a stressful pre-exam night cram. But working with people was different: (most) people were judgemental, and working in L.A in _Hollywood_ no less, meant that Jihoon had encountered more than enough people who were judgemental and entitled. Some people whistled at him, some people snapped their fingers at him and one time (one time too many) someone threw their cold brew latte at him because he put in too much ice.

"It's a warm day, anyway," Jihoon said after he'd finished sobbing on the phone to Soonyoung. "Maybe I should thank them."

It's not to say everyone Jihoon met while working was horrible. On the contrary, Jihoon clicked with quite a lot of people, especially the regulars and the students who would initiate conversation while he was making their drink and would smile and thank him and tip, and Jihoon was left the rest of the day replaying the pleasant interaction over and over again and smiling because he didn't mess up his words up with them. He really liked the people who, when he inevitably got their order wrong in one way or another, didn't shout or even approach him passive-aggressively, but instead smiled and told him not to worry and that they've got to wait a little longer for their Uber anyway and still treated him with kindness as they got their amendment and still gave a nice tip. Jihoon really liked those people, and one of those people was Hansol.

Hansol came in one Sunday morning and ordered nine coffees and one black tea. Jihoon asked him to repeat it, just so he was sure and Hansol had smiled.

"Yeah, I know it's a lot sorry." He tucked his hands into his bomber jacket. "I've got a team of people who need it."

Jihoon went to work right away and Hansol slid his headphones down to his neck as he sat by the counter to wait. Jihoon could hear his music, not obnoxiously loud, but loud enough for Jihoon to discern a non-descript hip-hop beat straight from the 2000s. He was caught pausing to try and figure out if he could recognize it and flushed as Hansol apologised in response.

"I'll turn it down," he said and Jihoon stammered to stop him.

"No, no, don't worry," he replied. "I was just wondering what it was, the beat sounded familiar."

"Oh, it's an original," Hansol amended and turned back to his phone as Jihoon looked at him.

"You do music?" he asked, realising a second later how stupid he must have sounded because he was working in L.A, in _Hollywood_ no less, where out everyone in the room, most of them will be a musician or a thespian. 

Still, Hansol smiled at him. "Yeah," he said, "mostly DJ-ing and mixing but I dabble in most things." 

See, if Jihoon was socially conscious, he'd know that this was an opportunity for him. If he was brave enough, he'd announce that he, too, was a musician and could dabble in most things, but he's been hard-pressed for work recently and Hansol, being as sweet and approachable as he seemed, would respond with a bypassing mention of an opening at his place of work and that Jihoon should take his number and he'd hit him up with the details of where to look. Then, because of this barista-customer relationship they'd begun, Hansol would put a good word in with the boss and suddenly Jihoon would be on the fast track to superstar-producer-dom since, on his very first night of work, Jihoon was spotted by some Hollywood big shot who'd ask for his details and a demo and a partnership and would be formed and Jihoon would... he would...

Jihoon fell asleep before he could finish his fantasy since, after all, it never goes like that in reality and instead Jihoon lay ready to go to sleep and created that scenario in his head. Instead, it went something more like he made Hansol's drinks (all ten of them) and he asked: "So, do you play anywhere local?" and Hansol responded with a scrunched up nose.

"Nah, not really. Not play anyway. I do freelance and commissions from my YouTube channel, but these—" he gestured to the stack of coffee building up "—are for the people dancers at the club I do the light tech for, just around the corner. It's only a weekend job I'm still studying actually."

And just like that, Jihoon's opportunity crumbled. As if it was an opportunity anyway. Whatever. He passed Hansol his drinks in two five-holed cardboard cartons and thanked him as he tipped. Jihoon was disappointed, per se, because really his hopes were up because of his own mind overworking a normal daily interaction, but that didn't stop Jihoon later that night as he curled up in the living room and mapped out his whole successful future. Call him childish because you stopped daydreaming when you were nine years old, but that doesn't matter since it was due to Jihoon's daydreaming that Hansol came back and said that the tea was meant to be black.

"I'm so sorry to be a bother," Hansol said, the most apologetic look on his face as Jihoon stood mortified at his mistake. "I usually wouldn't complain it's just that he's lactose intolerant and he only likes a specific brand of almond milk and apparently you use another type so he just gets a black one, and I'm so sorry—"

"No," Jihoon said. "No, please, it's completely my fault." He took the offending tea and replaced it as quickly as he could with the right one, face red in shame. Hansol got out his card to pay for it, but Jihoon vehemently declined. "Please, on the house." 

Hansol smiled and slid the new drink into the carton. "Thank you," he said and turned for the door and Jihoon felt like he was ready to clock off after just one simple hour.

"I think you need to put your self out there more," Chan said. He removed the four boxes of Gushers that Soonyoung had deposited into the shopping cart and put them back on the shelf. "Go to a few places before they do dinner service and ask if they need any musicians, leave your CV, email people. Most employers, especially in this business, will discard people who follow the rules. Soonyoung, we have enough instant waffles, please go and find some cheese."

It was easy for Chan to say. The guy was so sure of himself that confidence is scared when he came around. Chan didn't go to college, he didn't even feel like he needed a backup plan, the only thing he saw was dance. He could talk to people, he could 'put himself out there' because wherever he went, he charmed people. He didn't stammer or mix up his words or say the wrong thing; he was sure and comfortable and everyone loved for it. He was the friend that didn't need to offer to talk to the cashier for you, they just did anyway. And on top of it all, he was insanely talent: Jihoon had seen his body do thinks he didn't think was possible and somewhere past the layers of admiration, Jihoon was envious. 

"It's not that easy," Jihoon began and searched through the bread shelves for the squashed one discounted to two dollars.

"It is though," Chan insisted. "You just gotta not worry what people think of you. Things don't happen that way.

Being a performer, Jihoon would hope, by now at least, he'd be better with people. In general. He's always been opinionated, but not so much that his confidence matched it enough to ever really take a stance and outright speak his mind. He liked keeping to himself, really. He'd joke that he was quiet because he was assimilating information on everyone to exploit their weaknesses and one day take over the world, but really, he was just scared that if he spoke, people would judge him. Jihoon wasn't sensitive, per se, just... protective. Of himself and his craft and the things he holds dear, and the last thing Jihoon wanted for the things he loved was people's opinions. Sometimes people just didn't get what he was about and so instead of explaining it onto deaf ears, he just hid it, which is not the route he should be taking if he ever wants to get to the top. In some roundabout way, Jihoon was in the utterly wrong field and there had been many times in his life where he considered dropping everything and studying to become a doctor so he could make money and make his grandma proud in one go. But the more Jihoon thought about it, living without music was like not living at all and he resolved himself to just suck it up and get over it. As it stood, Jihoon still hadn't gotten over it, and it'd taken that month's bill in the mail to push him to open the musical job listings page again.

"Yeah," he resolved and looked oddly at Soonyoung as he placed a bag of marshmallows in the cart.

"Comfort food," he said and Jihoon didn't ask further.

It was that night that, some time past eleven, while Chan and Soonyoung were crying at Mamma Mia when Jihoon made a promise to himself. Next Sunday when Hansol (who would come in at eight a.m on the dot) came to get the usual order of nine coffees and one black tea, Jihoon would ask - just curiously enquire - if the club he worked at, or anywhere else he leant his talents to, had any openings for a musician available. Or a sound technician. Or a janitor, even, anything that would allow Jihoon's foot to even slightly graze the door enough to get him started. In the meanwhile, before then, he'd shop around and do some digging: he had a list of places from google maps of clubs and bars and restaurants that would need even a background man for entertainment, but as he closed his laptop for the evening, Soonyoung's tipsy rendition of Voulez-Vu was drowned out by the louder sound of the doubts that clouded Jihon's ears, the unreassuring hesitation of if Jihoon could even entertain, let alone perform for people. His best response was to take the bottle of single malt whiskey that Chan had been rationing for the last six weeks and drink.

As much as Jihoon wouldn't have liked to admit, he thought of Joshua often. When he had time to, at least, in between composing and barista-ing and getting rejected by jazz bars from Downtown the opposite end of Sunset Strip.

Since he'd moved to L.A, Jihoon's life hadn't been quiet, what between two less than introverted roommates and living in the middle of the world's film and music epicentre. But there were moments when Jihoon found the time to take a breath and before he can think about anything else, the thoughts of his beautiful upperclassman shrouded his brain with intimacy. Jihoon wasn't that romantic of a person - not in the traditional sense at least - but if there was one thing that made his heart flutter, it was having a first crush. Thinking back to it, Jihoon had always been busy: his life, even back to elementary school, was packed day-to-day with extracurricular activities, enough so that he barely made friends outside of his close hobby circles. He knew, deep down, his parents busied him so much so he had the best shot at a future (he doesn't know how being a master flute player and the first in his age category to swim 400m the fastest had to do with that) but somewhere through all his talents he couldn't help but feel resentment that he didn't have the time as a kid to experience things. College was the first time he'd been exposed to people from all different types of backgrounds and crafts and personalities and, even if he was shy about it, he couldn't help but adore each and every one of the friends he gained. So, really, part of Jihoon thinks that Joshua was just a convenience: he hadn't felt anything remotely close to that kind of love for anyone before him (not even his sixth grade piano teacher who was in every aspect _gorgeous_ Jihoon had to admit). So what if Joshua was just the first person Jihoon had ever had a crush on, and the first person who had ever shown him any similar attention and his brain was just overplaying it and really, now that he'd gained just a slight more life experience, if he met Joshua again he'd realise they're better of being friends and he was totally in the right for not kissing him that fateful night. 

Because ultimately, that's where this all leads. Jihoon and Joshua had something, no matter which way Jihoon thought about it. It might not (or it might have) of been love because, really, how many people fall in love during college and then break up as soon as they finish senior year. He missed him. He really, really, really missed him and Jihoon could ignore how stupid he was for thinking of Joshua so much just enough to recall all the bittersweet memories of everything they'd do together. He couldn't even watch Shrek 2 without his mind wandering back to those doe eyes. He was like an overly dramatic character in a criminally overrated romantic movie, but at least now he understood why they had so much appeal to the brokenhearted. He missed Joshua's voice when he sang and the way he would slow down his speech when he was thinking, accentuating the vowels in that typical west coast accent. He missed the way Joshua was so gentle and caring and could save just about anyone from social embarrassment by making a situation a lighthearted one. He missed that _fucking_ laugh, where he gasped for air and fell about, and he missed the way Joshua would make him laugh in the easiest of ways. Being around him was so uncomplicated, despite what Jihoon's mind would do to tangle it whenever he was gone. He never needed to worry about the grander scheme of things when he could just exist with Joshua and everything would just be so simple.

Jihoon lay in bed that night and thought about Joshua's everything - he could still picture him as clear as on the day he last saw him, on his graduation day, in his black gowns and blue suit and it how happy he looked to have his whole life ahead of him. There had been no awkwardness between them after their near-kiss and Jihoon couldn't thank him enough because he'd not be able to live with the knowledge that Joshua hated him for it.

Jihoon didn't cry when they said goodbye, but Joshua's eyes were just glazed enough to be passed off as their natural sparkle. He was moving back home the next day, the movers coming early to get across country in good time and he hugged each of his friends like he was about to die. 

"Thank you," he said to all of them and wiped his sleeve where Seungkwan had cried into it. He turned to Jihoon last and for a brief second, Jihoon thought himself special for being the final one to receive a hug, but his mind was quickly swept up with the way Joshua swept him into his arms and held him tight. Jihoon's face was against his shoulder, close enough to smell his cologne and finally, he felt the prickle of tears and a cry in the back of his throat. If Jihoon was really self-destructive, he'd think about how Joshua seemed to hug him just a beat longer and when he pulled away, he smiled with his eyes and said, "Thank you too. For everything."

Jihoon wanted to tackle him to the ground and kiss him so hard he never even thought of leaving. Sometimes, if Jihoon really wanted to make himself suffer, he'd just think about if Joshua ever thought of him too.

The ache in his chest was so strong and Jihoon had had enough of it, so much so that he rolled over and tried to force himself into sleep.

"Nine strong coffees and one black tea, that's twenty-seven dollars and sixty cents. But you already knew that." Jihoon handed Hansol the card reader and respectfully averted his gaze.

"You'd think after so much of the budget is spent on coffee, they'd give up and just invest in their own coffee machine," Hansol said and Jihoon laughed, and he turned around to start making the order that was by now burned into his muscle memory. As he worked on the third cup and added in extra cream, Hansol sat back into the counter stool and yawned and Jihoon started feeling the excitement because he had just found his way in. 

"Long night?" he asked and hoped his voice didn't sound too quivery.

"Longer than usual," Hansol responded, dropping his head onto his fist. "A member of the live band quit unexpectantly last night, something about moving to the valley to be closer to his friends who sound suspiciously like a cult in my opinion."

_Bingo!_

"That sucks," Jihoon consolidated and hoped his emotions came across as genuine enough. "What did they play?"

"Piano, but they dabbled in other stuff," Hansol waved his hand to emulate the 'stuff'. "It's just going to be a pain in the ass to find someone quick enough to fill up the spot."

Fucking _BINGO!_

If there's a god out there Jihoon wants to get on his knees and thank her personally.

"Piano?" Jihoon echoed as if he'd only just picked it up and wasn't hanging onto Hansol's every word. "I'm a trained pianist, I could come over and help out if you need it."

The fatigue was snatched from Hansol's body and he sat upright like a stick was protruding from his back. "Do you really? Can you play like jazz and stuff?" he asked.

"Yeah, I can do most things on it," he said because just as Chan said, he needed to put himself out there more.

Hansol's face was ridden with glee as he pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and starting to speed text. Jihoon tried to look only partially interested as his heart pounded in his heated ears. He carried on making the drinks like he wasn't vibrating from the inside out. When he handed them over, Hansol barely took his eyes from his phone.

"Here," he said, "put in your details. I've asked my boss and she's said to come over if you can this evening? Can you do that? Fuck, this is great, this saved so many problems for us Jihoon, I can't thank you enough." Jihoon handed him his phone back and he began texting again. Jihoon didn't know how much longer he could contain his glee. "I've just sent you the address and the open times, bring your CV, cover letter, bring your own music, whatever just—Agh! God, what are the chances that the local barista would be a trained pianist!" He looked away from his phone long enough to collect up his drinks and thank Jihoon vehemently one last time before making his hasty exit and Jihoon almost collapsed over the counter from how fast his heart rate is going.

So, that's how he ended up there, at ten p.m, per Hansol's later request, looking up at the illuminated, golden sign of the burlesque club. He gripped the strap of his satchel and made his way in. 

It was exactly yet nothing like he had expected. It was all dark, velvet drapes and wisps of cigar smoke and Jihoon felt like he'd just stepped back into the 1940s and he was ready to cheat on his estranged wife. Jihoon nearly tripped over the step that entered into the large main room of the club and took a second to look around. To his left was the bar, situated along the back wall and in front of him was the floor with circle tables and dim lamps and a long stage that jutted out, forming the shape of a T and half-hidden under a red stage curtain, bright lights shining in three round spots on it. He stepped to the side, near a folding bar entrance and pulled out his phone to double-check. Hansol would meet him at the bar when he could, for now, he was substitute DJ-ing for the band with prerecorded piano, and Jihoon could tell as the lights on the stage dimmed and the suave, sensual song began to play from all around him.

A figure stepped out on stage, and it took Jihoon's eyes a second to focus on him, but he was clad in what looked like a black-patterned silk suit with a masquerade mask covering his upper face. Jihoon knew he had a job interview to be preparing for, but he couldn't take his eyes off the way this dancer moved as he slinked his way to the chair set centre stage. He danced to, if Jihoon's ears didn't deceive him, sounded like a lounge music rendition of Fergalicious, and Jihoon was glued to every hip roll and shake and shimmy, every wink and shocked face and bitten lip that Jihoon didn't even register when he started taking his clothes off. It was slow, layer by layer - the jacket first, which he dropped from his shoulders to whoops from the audience, who he looked back to and winked at like he was just another cheeky, mischievous ragtag. Jihoon noticed when the dancer started to sensually remove his shirt (after one or two more rounds of seductive dance moves) that underneath, clasped to his waist was a corset, which came off agonizingly slowly, one clasp at a time.

The audience was rowdy, cheering with each carefully calculated action the more the dancer divulged his skin and took off his clothes. Jihoon felt like he shouldn't have been watching, but something so sinfully sedative took over him and Jihoon felt a strange sensation of deja vu like he could predict the artists next movements, right down to the carefully placed lace of his draws. It was so familiar yet so foreign and Jihoon found himself unable to stop his hands from applauding as the dancer finished and removed his mask and suddenly Jihoon felt a phantom hand had punched through his chest and made his heart stop. Those eyes, he knew, that _everything._ Of course, the performance had been familiar to him, when he'd seen the performer before. Not like this, of course, this was different - never in a million years would he have imagined _like this_ \- but there he was nonetheless, bathed in all the drama and the power was the last man Jihoon ever expected to see again.

Just as things seemed to be perfectly understandable to Jihoon Joshua Hong came in swinging and smashed up all rhyme and reason to just about everything.

And when Joshua looked to him during his last beam into the crowd, the world seemed to stop turning and it was like his heart had been jumpstarted and kicked onto the fast track again.

He was more tan than Jihoon remembered, but under hues of the pink and purple lights, Jihoon really couldn't be certain. He was certain, however, of the way Joshua's body had grown, the obvious muscle surrounding his thighs and biceps becoming even more evident when, minutes after he disappeared from the stage, he was next to him in the dark of the bar area and had his arms secure around Jihoon's waist. Jihoon's face was in his neck and his brain was only able to comprehend how Joshua smelt sweet like roses and musky like cigar smoke and Jihoon could cry from how overwhelmed he felt in that instant.

"You are absolutely the last person I expected to see here," Joshua said and Jihoon could only blink at him in disbelief. Suddenly, he was back to being eighteen, seeing Joshua for the very first time and feeling the inevitable wave of paralysing magnetism that tied him up all those years ago. It was like no time had passed, and the feelings of magic and enchantment were as fresh and strong as ever.

"Hi," he uttered and Joshua beamed down at him, hands now on his shoulders. Jihoon looked him up and down in one more unbelieving glance and opened his mouth to speak. He had no idea what to say. "I have no idea what to say."

Joshua, for a brief second, looked sheepish, but Jihoon noticed it might have been the sparring touches of tint around his cheeks to accentuate the already definitive features. "Yeah, well," he said and looked down at the jacket that covered the revealing show outfit that he'd adorned when performing. "We don't always end up where we plan to be."

He was leading Jihoon to a pair of barstools before Jihoon could even begin to answer. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "Here, as in this place _and_ this city?" he sounded excited and Jihoon dared to look at those destructive brown eyes, clouded in dark pigment and glitter, only to find them shining and sparkling just as much as his demeanour did.

"Just... you know... getting by," Jihoon admitted and felt an unstoppable smile crease his shocked exterior. "I just... I can't believe it's you."

That time, Joshua did blush and Jihoon noticed a smothering of red gloss as he wet his lip. He signalled to the bartender, who held up a finger in response and turned back to Jihoon, who realised suddenly he was staring and having a more detailed answer expected from him.

"I know Hansol," Jihoon said, assuming Joshua knew Hansol too. "He said to come by, and that he'd asked whoever runs this place to consider me for a music position."

"Of course!" Joshua said as if he should have realised it sooner, and Jihoon saw how different this Joshua was to the quiet, reserved, passive Joshua he remembered from college: he made no effort to conceal the buzz that performing gave him, and Jihoon saw a whole new life spring from his active hands as they fiddled and grasped with whatever was closest to him. Jihoon knew the feeling too, the jittery excitement that being applauded and cheered gave him (just before he oftentimes felt sick as he realised everyone was watching) and so paid the adrenaline from the older no mind. 

Jihoon had lost all words to comprehend the coincidence of everything, how just two nights ago, Jihoon was close to tears over the seemingly endless regrets that plagued him over his life as it stood to be and now stood in a burlesque club in Hollywood just around the corner from where he'd been working for the last seven months, a potential job and the first man he ever loved-but-maybe-not-loved sitting across from him - and yes, he was still waiting for the feeling, the realisation that really, Joshua wasn't all that and Jihoon could sleep easy knowing he didn't pass up the best thing that may of ever happened to him. He waited and he waited until the only feeling that sunk in was the steady realisation that Joshua was here, and so was Jihoon and it felt like nothing had changed at all. (Apart from Joshua's hair, which now was much darker than his natural brown, a black, almost like ink that still looked as soft and delicate as Jihoon could recall it being.)

"How is everyone? Do you still keep in touch with the band?" Joshua asked and Jihoon would rather talk about anything else than his college days but half shrugged half shook his head.

"Sort of. After you and Jeonghan left we struggled to find a new bassist and honestly, everyone was way too busy to keep it up enough for anyone to book us so we kind of went our separate ways," he said honestly. "The last I heard, Seungkwan was auditioning to go on Drag Race and I think Seokmin was asked to be Valedictorian at the graduation this year." Jihoon swallowed thickly and tried to look anywhere other than the breast of Joshua's blazer, of which the button had come undone and Jihoon could see the valley of his very defined chest. "How did you... you know?" Jihoon gestured vaguely and hoped his question had come across.

Joshua laughed timidly and shrugged just like Jihoon had, but instead of confusion or dismissal, it was a shrug of glee and excitement. Spontaneity is what Jihoon gathered. "I was looking for work after I realised I really didn't want to be an accountant and..." He gestured around, again, similar to Jihoon, "She happened." Joshua the entertainer. Joshua the _dancer_. A burlesque dancer, no less. "It kind of changed my life."

The slew of questions that Jihoon had were put on hold as the bartender appeared behind them.

"What for you?" Joshua asked and Jihoon shook his head.

"Oh, just a Coke, please, I'm technically at an interview."

"Espresso Martini," Joshua requested and Jihoon nearly laughed out loud at the thought of the guy he'd witnessed do body shots off his roommate drink something as fancy as an _espresso martini._ "But not with the Baileys, just the almond cream because I'm—"

Suddenly, the gravity of everything hit him. 

"Lactose intolerant."

Jihoon was not only uncool, but he was also fucking _stupid_. 

Joshua smiled at him as the bartender turned to make their drinks. "I can't believe you remembered that."

Jihoon had been making Joshua a black tea for seven months. Joshua, the first person he'd ever been in love with, was working a handful of blocks away for seven months and Jihoon had no idea. He couldn't take this anymore. He was so, so, so stupid. He wanted to smash his face into the bar and smash his lips into Joshua's at the same time and _God_ Jihoon just wanted the last year and a half of his life to not exist anymore. He gulped his Coke and regretted not asking for a double shot of vodka in it.

(Reflecting, Jihoon wasn't that stupid. Statistically, four million people in Los Angeles meant roughly two million six hundred thousand are lactose intolerant, just by the numbers. So the chances of him making Joshua's tea every Sunday was one in two million six hundred thousand. Just to put it into perspective how Jihoon quite rightfully theorized that Joshua must be his soulmate.)

Joshua must have noticed how Jihoon was considering slamming his hands into the piano lid as adequate punishment because he reached over and put one hand on Jihoon's knee. "Hey, are you okay? If you're not used to how dark and, you know, strong the cigarette smoke is in here, it could give you a headache. Do you want to step outside?"

Before Joshua could brace a hand on Jihoon's arm, Hansol, dressed strikingly in a suit get up, appeared beside them, deciding that it wasn't notable that Joshua somehow knew Jihoon. "Hey, I'm so sorry to have made you wait." Joshua sank back into his stool and took a sip of his drink as he and Hansol had a brief but warm exchange. ("How did you like the new track?" - "Sexy as ever.") "Nayoung just had to clear up some business before she could see you, but she's ready to see you know if you are."

Jihoon nodded, thankful that he didn't have to look at the human incarnation of all his worldly failures in one Joshua Hong and let Hansol step ahead of him. Before he could even say goodbye to Joshua, the dancer had grabbed his hand and, after some rustling, presented a pen from his inside blazer pocket. He pushed up the sleeve of Jihoon's jumper and scribbled something across his wrist and when he blinked at it, Jihoon realised it was a number. 

"I have a new phone and most my contacts didn't transfer," he said. "I'm not working tomorrow so, if you're free, call me and we can get a coffee. Have a real catch up."

Jihoon nodded and resisted the urge to fall into Joshua's arms right there. He watched as Joshua stood and noticed his unbuttoned coat and followed suit as he unbuttoned the rest of them, the material falling at his delicate waist. Jihoon's feet unwillingly urged him to follow Hansol finally and he concluded what will stand to be probably the strangest pre-interview interactions of his life.

It wasn't uncommon for Joshua to visit Jihoon in his dreams, but since he'd seen him on the stage at the burlesque club, Jihoon couldn't close his eyes without seeing Joshua in front of him. 

Joshua was in front of him now. Well, really, he was on top of Jihoon, but Jihoon could still look into those star-ridden eyes as his delicate hands did whatever they wanted to his body. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel the ghost of Joshua's lips on his neck, like soft velvet cushions feeling the pulse of his veins. He could see the dip of Joshua's chest and reached out the trace it with his fingers, but found nothing but the cold air outside of his comforter as he snapped awake and felt the heat of his dream settle over him like what a real guilty pleasure should feel like. If Jihoon could draw anything from a wet dream like that, it was that he still had a very big crush on Joshua.

He cleaned his offending hand and reached for his phone under his pillow. It was just short of three in the morning and Jihoon could hear the soft snores of both his roommates in their already cramped apartment. Joshua would be finishing work soon and Jihoon opened their bare text thread to start typing a message. What does he even say? 'I missed you so much.' If he texted Joshua now would it of come across as a booty call? And would it be any less weird if he just told him he was just thinking of him? He started a message, then deleted it, then started again and then deleted it again. He couldn't find the words to even say hello to Joshua like he was back to waking up in the sophomore's bed after passing out in his arms like a drunken idiot.

He was ready to send a short and sweet 'Hey' before the grey bubble on the left side of the screen popped up and Jihoon dropped his phone right onto his face.

'Hansol just told me!' it read 'Nayoung wants you to come in for a second interview/performance assessment, but if you ask me, you've pretty much got the job!'

* * *

Jihoon looked at the grand piano. It was so much more attractive than the one he used at college. It was sharper and clearer and it spoke to Jihoon, as if it understood him, no coercion needed to get his song across. Jihoon wished he could write a song. Well, he _could_ , in the same way that a teacher would say you _could_ go to the bathroom when you ask in grade school. _If_ he will write a song is an entirely different avenue at the minute. He even did the unthinkable and went back to unfinished demos to see if he rework them into something entirely different than originally intended, something ala strip-tease. He'd had no luck and was instead stuck to rearranging sexy songs from the 2000s into some sensual to have clothes stripped off to. He didn't _not_ enjoy it, that's for certain, but something was off about it like whatever he made wasn't genuine enough to be used in a performance. 

It was nearing five o'clock in the morning and Jihoon was ready to call it a night (well, morning) until the stage doors clattered open behind him. He spun around and felt his heart warm from the sight of Joshua smiling at him. 

"Hi, Ji," he greeted and hiked his back up over his shoulder. "Sorry, am I interrupting?" he asked, the ease in him slowly slipping off as he took in the crumbles of papers around Jihoon. "I'm interrupting, I'm so sorry."

"No, no!" Jihoon stammered. "You would be, if there was any actual working going on but, alas, here we are. I thought you left for home?"

"I did," Joshua said and bounded down the stairs where the musicians sat during performances. Jihoon had never known someone to be this energetic at this hour, especially after a long night of doing what he did. "I think I left my wallet up in the dressing rooms. Is it not going well?" he enquired and Jihoon shuffled over to allow him a seat on the stool next to him. 

"It's going... somewhere, that's for sure," he responded and his hands itched to hide all his papers before Joshua got a glimpse at them. 

"May I?" he asked and despite his better judgement, Jihoon allowed him, shrinking more and more the longer Joshua pondered over his indiscernible scribbles of notes and lyrics. "Play it for me?" he asked and Jihoon sighed, exaggerating his breath to joke as Joshua rest his arm on the lip of the fallboard and waited.

Jihoon poised his hands on the keys and willed his fingers to press them but they refused to move as if an indiscernible force bound them to be still. He didn't know where to even start with playing, his mind a senseless cloud of confusion where no melody could seep its what through to his hands and just let him play some music. He closed his eyes and tried again, and felt the embarrassment creep up his neck as Joshua's eyes kept on him, but when he pressed the keys, the sounds came out distorted and ugly and Jihoon wanted to give the piano one firm, swinging kick.

"No, to answer." Jihoon dropped his hands into his lap and scorned his eyes into the lousy instrument. "I can't play it for you." 

"That's okay," Joshua answered and Jihoon felt hot from the shame of letting him down. Joshua didn't push though because that's what Joshua did - he was kind and considerate and maybe all Jihoon needed was just a solid kick to his ass to get him to actually write anything. Why couldn't Joshua be more mean like he was to himself? "I better be the first one to hear it though, when you do write it."

Sharing something so intimate with Joshua should have been motivation enough to get himself working, but he just sat idle, musicless, staring at the black and white and wishing for the time when they spoke to him like a friend he'd known forever. 

"You will be," Jihoon said and took note of the way that Joshua rolled his shoulders back when he yawned. "Go find your wallet and go home," Jihoon said. "You're making me feel tired."

Joshua left coldness in his wake and Jihoon wished he could just feel his body heat next to him for just a little bit more. He stared at the paper and he stared at the piano and eventually when he found his eyelids blurring his vision to nothing, he stood, packed his satchel and switched off the light.

* * *

"I promise you," Joshua began as he set a tray down in front of Jihoon, "forget whatever you have heard, this is the best place in the entire of L.A for fast food at three in the morning."

Jihoon investigated the food in front of him as Joshua gathered them napkins and sauce dishes and pushed a straw into his drink. Jihoon had to admit, after seven hours of sitting and playing the piano while trying not to get distracted by the way Joshua took his clothes off behind him, he could eat anything, and the cup of fries drowned in oil piled on the tray next to a three-tiered burger and about a gallon of coke looked really, really appealing. Jihoon had never tried to be overly healthy in his diet choices (he'd spent most of his time in college living on instant noodles) and he made that evident when he devoured the meal in a shocking amount of time. 

Jihoon had been working at the club - the _lounge,_ as the dancers preferred, but nonetheless it was a late-night adult entertainment club where people cheered and swooned over people getting semi-naked for an evening - for just shy of a month and he'd loved every second; even if being a night owl with proficiency for waking up early had proved to be less than ideal. He knew all the dancers by name now, and though his shifts usually ended at either two or three in the morning, Jihoon found himself more often than not traipsing through to go to bed while his roommates were getting ready for the day because the tight-knit crew spent so much time together after work. Because of it, Chan had offered up his room to Jihoon, and also because Jihoon was now earning the most out of all of them they felt it was proportionate. 

Joshua sat across from him now and Jihoon could tell he was tired through the mask of make-up that he wore. He blinked and Jihoon couldn't imagine how exhausting it was to perform with his body the way he did almost every night of the weak, but he didn't let the fatigue stop him from anything, especially taking Jihoon out to eat when he promised he would.

"You got me," Jihoon said, wiping his grease-stained fingers on a napkin. "This is good."

"Good?" Joshua echoed. "Jihoon, this is the food of the Gods. This food is so blessed eating it is like being baptized all over again."

Jihoon laughed as Joshua took another bite of his chicken sandwich and groaned. "You've made your point." He chewed his straw and took in the man in front of him. He'd shunned the costume of sparkles and velvet and looked so insufferably casual in a t-shirt and ripped jeans that his dark dramatic makeup looked a stark contrast against it. It worked though, because Joshua can just make everything work even without trying. He always had been good at that, like everything about him was just effortless: his style, his beauty, his voice.

"Do you still sing?" Jihoon asked and Joshua swallowed before he answered.

"I guess," he said. "But not, like, professionally or anything. It always was just a hobby."

"You could sing while you dance?" Jihoon suggested but Joshua snorted.

"Please, I can barely keep my breath stable as it is." He took a long swig of his soda. "Do you still write?" 

Jihoon thought about the notepads upon voice notes of unfinished music since he'd moved to L.A and considered his answer. "Yeah, I guess. I mostly learn, now, because of..." He gestured to Joshua. "I haven't got much time to create nowadays." He still did shifts at the cafe and found himself overpowering drinks when he zoned out somedays.

"Time or inspiration?" Joshua responded and not for the first time did Jihoon find himself at a loss for words. "Not to, you know, man-splain your creative process," Joshua amended after Jihoon's silence. "I'm sure the road to making music is a long one."

"You'd be surprised." He thought of the folder on the laptop of songs created since two September's ago and remembered the number of sensitive love songs where the words painted a picture of a certain person's face. "I don't know, it takes a lot of both."

Joshua nodded in understanding and returned his eyes to his almost depleted chip cup. Jihoon tried to hesitate but found himself unable to stop as he said, "I could write you a song." 

Joshua looked at him and Jihoon looked back. 

"To perform. Something, you know, burlesque-y."

Joshua smiled and drew his sheepish eyes to the table between them. "You don't have to do that. Especially since you're busy with everything, I would hate to be the source of more effort."

"It wouldn't be," Jihoon said and felt his cheeks grow warmer as his mouth did all the thinking. "Not for you."

Joshua seemed to fall into thought as he cleared his throat and glanced at Jihoon's food tray. "Are you finished?" he asked, a hand reached out and Jihoon nodded, the regret of everything he'd said in the last few minutes. Joshua wasn't receptive and Jihoon wanted to go and take a lie down six feet under. He nodded and Joshua took his tray to the nearest bin for him and dumping it gracelessly. "I'll take you home," he different and Jihoon shook his head.

"It's only a short walk," he said.

"Then I'll walk you."

Jihoon was too tired suddenly to argue. Which is how they ended up outside Jihoon's apartment, at four in the morning. If there was one thing Jihoon had to pick as his favourite out of the L.A weather, it was that even when the sun wasn't in the sky, he still felt warm enough to stand without a jacket.

It wasn't awkward standing there - in fact, Jihoon didn't think Joshua had the ability to even be involved in an awkward situation, but they didn't speak, not until Jihoon brought out his keys and thumbed through them for the front door one.

"I was right, wasn't I?" Jihoon's heart stammered for a second before Joshua continued. "Best late-night food you've had in this entire city."

Jihoon smiled and sighed. "Fine, you were right, you win, whatever." He knew he should turn towards his door and leave before he caught himself doing something unforgivable, but his feet wouldn't let him. Instead, he twisted the key around his fingers and begged for some divine intervention to shove him. Why wasn't this easy? Jihoon knew Joshua as someone who was always so fucking easy. Now Jihoon couldn't dismiss the churning feeling of stress in his stomach that made him want to kiss Joshua and punch him all in the same minute. Jihoon didn't know what to do and he cursed whichever god who was listening for the toll it was taking on his mentality. 

Joshua was different - not in any degree negatively, in fact, if anything, Joshua was better. Jihoon tried to place his finger on it but more and more it left him confused and lost by it. When they'd had their 'real watch-up' Jihoon had learned Joshua intervened for two months at an accounting firm and realised he hated capitalism even more then when he had his political awakening, and that he'd met Hansol trying to busk on up and down the Walk of Fame. He learned he liked drinking wine before he did a performance and that on Mondays he would go see a drive-in movie, and he invited Jihoon to go next week with him. Jihoon went and as he and Joshua sat on the hood of his car, reciting the words to Million Dollar Baby, Joshua told him what he wanted from here.

"Dancing at the lounge is great, and I love it, but..." he hesitated as Hilary Swank swung punches. "I don't know, I feel there's more out there."

"I agree," Jihoon said, "that your dancing is great, I mean, really, just exquisite."

Joshua smiled with his eyes and nudged Jihoon with his shoulder. 

"No, I do get you, though. The lounge is great but it's not..."

"It's not Hollywood."

Jihoon laughed. "You sound like a teen movie starring Amanda Bynes."

"I want to do something great, and for so long I thought I could do that by being rich. But dancing has kinda shown me that it's not about what you have, it's what you do with it."

Jihoon understood, and let Joshua lament over it as he watched him, the colours of the movie flashing over his tanned skin. Jihoon could have a piano from the top of the range and it wouldn't do anything unless he played it.

Joshua from college was smart and dedicated and sensitive, and all those things were amazing, but Joshua now, in the big wide world: he wasn't just smart, but conscious and opportunistic and grabbed the chances as they came to him - if he could switch careers from accountant to entertaining, he could do anything. He was dedicated, but still mature about it, he didn't overwork himself and knew his limits; he was sensitive and could read a room in a minute but didn't compromise himself for anyone who didn't deserve it. And especially, Joshua was a dreamer, but now he was thinking beyond himself into what he could really do out there and Jihoon wanted to be there for whatever came of it. Jihoon didn't know if Joshua was still interested in him, or frankly, if Joshua was into him in the first place. A couple of times he had tried to figure it out for himself, but often he just backed down from it, because he just wasn't used to the working ways of this Joshua. Jihoon was scared of the rejection like if he told Joshua how he felt for him, he'd be mocked and ostracized and it'd debilitate him from every being in love with anyone ever again. It's like his feelings were a song and Jihoon was scared no one would be willing to listen to it. Joshua was different and Jihoon didn't know how he could even begin to approach that.

Jihoon couldn't bring himself to do it. He started to turn towards his front door before Joshua spoke to stop him.

"Jihoon." 

Jihoon felt a shiver from how delicately the word settled over him. He looked up to see Joshua, basking in the moon above them and hummed for him to continue.

"I just..." Joshua swallowed and Jihoon saw something dance around Joshua's eyes as he looked for the words to express it. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm glad we found each other again. I..." he paused again and Jihoon waited patiently. "I really did, you know, miss you."

Jihoon couldn't take his eyes away from Joshua's face. "I missed you too."

"Back then," Joshua continued and Jihoon felt his heart rate increase by the second. "Back then it was... I don't think I did it right."

Jihoon swallowed. The pit in his gut felt like it was expanding. "Did what?"

Joshua laughed shortly and looked at his trainers. "I just mean..." he laughed again and scratched the nape of his neck. "We've been here before. When we were in college, you and I..." He pointed between them before he dropped his hand like he was giving up. "It doesn't matter, really," he said. "I'm just glad we can be like this. Us." He shook his head but smiled still like he was ridding something from his head. "Goodnight, Jihoon," he said Jihoon felt his heart sink to his shoes as Joshua walked away.

Jihoon slid the key into the lock and tried to ignore the way Joshua's footsteps stopped, then started then stopped again. Jihoon felt sick, the adrenaline in his body was so strong that his hands just barely began to shake. Joshua, the cool, handsome talented senior who Jihoon had rejected and regretted for nearly two years of his life, was just as remorseful as he was. For the first time in a long time, Jihoon felt like he was really on the right page. Joshua was different, but Jihoon was still so in love with him. He spun on his heels and staggered out onto the pavement, almost tripping on the decorative plant pot, and called out as softly yet as assured as he could.

"Joshua." 

Joshua was only a few paces away and he turned instantly. For a moment Jihoon thought nothing would come of it before Joshua coughed a laugh that half sounded like relief. "You know, for a minute there, I was thinking you weren't going to call me back." Before Jihoon could comprehend it, he was in Joshua's arms and Joshua was kissing him.

* * *

When Joshua would kiss him, he'd kiss him hard whenever he wasn't kissing him softly. Joshua's kiss was everything Jihoon had imagined it to be and more, like the two sweetest pieces of candy had come together to give him a savoury taste he'd want more every time it left him. Jihoon couldn't get enough when Joshua was kissing him and it's like Joshua couldn't get enough either.

"I have to go to work," Jihoon said and Joshua kissed him again. Joshua lived in a studio apartment in East Hollywood and lived simply with a low mattress for his bed and a beanbag for furniture. ("And a plant," he'd insist Jihoon remember. "Called Cedric.") Jihoon was cornered down on this mattress now, Joshua's lips on his neck, hands-on his wrist and his knee just barely pressing against his middle. 

"One more I promise," Joshua answered and Jihoon smiled as he kissed his jaw and then his cheek and then finally his lips. Joshua made it last, Jihoon's wrists slipping free for him to tangle his fingers into Joshua's dark hair. It was just as soft and malleable as Jihoon had imagined it, gentle against his fingers and easy to pull when he needed it. Jihoon's legs found Joshua's waist, the band of his sweatpants tight enough that they didn't move when Jihoon secured himself there and Joshua lifted his body up so he could lie flat against the matters and Jihoon could sit on his hips. The t-shirt Jihoon wore, a tired one three sizes too big, hung off his body as he propped himself over Joshua, their positions reversed as finally, they broke away from their desperate albeit sleepy kiss. 

"I need to go back to mine to get my work clothes," Jihoon said as he sat back against Joshua's upright thighs.

"I'll drive you," Joshua said because Jihoon didn't even need to ask anymore. Probably, Jihoon thought, there was a nondescript white shirt around Joshua's apartment of his, but searching through it under Joshua's pile of performing outfits he'd taken home to mend was a task he wasn't prepared to start with. 

Joshua would kiss him softly when he'd arrive at the lounge in the evening like he hadn't seen - or kissed - him just that morning. Joshua would kiss him once he'd finished a performance and Jihoon tried not to shy away when Joshua motioned to the band when the applause was coming in. Somewhere along the way, Jihoon stopped feeling embarrassed by it at all and would smile at the gleaming crowd, looking all hot and bothered by his boyfriend taking his clothes off. 

Joshua was his boyfriend and Jihoon had waited so long to be able to say that. Jihoon didn't care if he made it to the top anymore, he was happy right where he existed.

That night, Jihoon's head was against Joshua's shoulder and he watched the way the latter's chest rose and fell with the rhythm of his steady, tranquil breaths. He tried to stop his hand from doing it, but he reached out and traced the valley with his index finger, finding the skin beneath so toned yet soft that he was scared of creating a blemish. Instantly, Joshua stirred and Jihoon snatched his hand away.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I thought you were asleep."

"No," Joshua replied. "Just thinking."

"That's not good, does it hurt when you do that?"

Joshua pinched the skin of Jihoon's shoulder and Jihoon rolled into him snickering.

"What were you thinking about?"

Joshua took a long breath in and found interest in the plastering of the ceiling. For an apartment in Los Angeles under one thousand dollars a month, Jihoon was surprised to find it wasn't infested and/or falling apart altogether. "Just..." he seemed to start to dismiss it, in the way he normally would, but retracted it and started again. "I wasted so much time."

Jihoon turned to lie on his front and rest his chin on Joshua's chest, waiting for him to go on. 

"I waited three years to just... make a move on you and look where it got me."

Jihoon creased his eyebrows. "With me in bed with you?"

"Almost two years just hating myself for all of it."

Jihoon spluttered and dropped his forehead onto Joshua's skin. "Well, really," he said, lifting his head up again. "It was me."

Joshua shook his head. "I think I know why you didn't kiss me." Jihoon stayed quiet to let him continue. "At least, I did after a while. Firstly, I just thought I'd got it all wrong and that you didn't like me and I'd just ruined any simulation of a friendship we could have because I tried to kiss you but - and correct me if I'm wrong here by the way - I think I just left it too late." He looked at Jihoon and smiled softly and Jihoon as Jihoon smiled back, he realised that, sometimes, he wasn't the only one who's mind was working against himself.

"And I'm sorry for it, but also..." Joshua drummed his fingers into Jihoon's shoulder. "But also now I have you. And I don't have to cry watching Shrek 2 anymore because I can watch it with you instead. I'm going to make up for all that lost time, I promise.

Jihoon wanted to crawl up there and kiss him stupid. Except, he didn't have to just _want_ to do that, he could and he did and he sat on Joshua's hips and let him know exactly what they'd both been missing. Joshua was different, and Jihoon could feel it in the way their bodies worked together like it was choreography that they'd known all along. There was no hesitation, for either of them and Jihoon wasn't scared of that anymore, because he knew that not all change was going to weaken him, but instead, this change would be the way he'd finally be able to help himself like life was now a platter of whatever he wanted at the buffet table.

"I waited too long, too."

Joshua slept beside him that night and Jihoon was devastated to learn that he snored. He didn't know if it was just that that kept him awake, but his mind buzzed nonetheless. He slipped himself from Joshua's loose grasp and looked fondly once at the man who he'd loved for so many years past and who he knew was in love with him too.

He sat down on the beanbag in the corner of the room and began to create.

**Author's Note:**

> ha HA look at you, you did it, you read all 20k+ words of this, i'm proud of you. you know who else im proud of? me, for finishing it after a whole year of just not - it really took a pandemic for me to get to it. so this baby has been a brainchild of mine since june last year and was really just inspired by and is gifted to all the uncool socially anxious people out there: i hope you, too, one day get to date joshua hong
> 
> thank u for reading, if you liked it let me know in the comments, leave a kudo and tell ur friends <3
> 
> xoxo


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